


Born From Fire

by IntoTheWilds



Category: Avengers, Criminal Minds, X-Men
Genre: Abandonment, Asshole!Warren AKA Angel, Asshole!William Reid, Attempted Rape, Betrayal, Bitch!Rogue, Controlled by feral instincts somewhat (I know terrible tag! X_X), Cruel!Warren AKA Angel, Death, Derek's Painful past, Distrust, Eventual Remy/Spencer, Eventual Slash Romance, F/F, F/M, Initial Remy/Rogue, Kleenex tissues at the ready!, M/M, Mentions of mutilation, Mostly X-Men!, Mutant!Spencer, New Friends, OC characters, Obstacles to overcome, Past trauma!, Persistent!Remy, Remy being an ass!, Remy's trial!, S.H.I.E.L.D - Freeform, Sad, Science Fiction, Slightly altered backgrounds!, Some characters only mentioned!, Tears, Trauma, Violence!, au!, broken home, feeling lost, fem!slash, mentions of past rape, non-canon, past self harm, stubborn!Spencer, teenage antics, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2019-09-22 04:24:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17053070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheWilds/pseuds/IntoTheWilds
Summary: Spencer Reid learned long ago not to trust anyone. But Remy LeBeau has no intentions of giving him a choice. As far as the Cajun is concerned the kid needs people and all refusals are void. With some convincing from one SSA Derek Morgan, Spencer decides to give Remy and the rest of the X-Men a chance.Friendships grow and love blooms, but along the way a shadow threatens.Spencer has drawn the attention of someone in the MRD and they are willing to do just about anything to get to him....





	1. Discord

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello my flowers! Tis I, the writer known as IntoTheWilds. Where have I been you ask? Well, I got into a relationship, got engaged and had a new baby, so busy doesn't quite cover it! X_X Anywho I had left Fanfiction for a while, but I'm trying to get back into it with this archived little beauty.  
> Born from Fire was something I jotted down almost four years ago and never got around to writing. So I decided to take a bash at it now.  
> Chapter one is a little rusty, honestly it's been a while, but hopefully it'll smooth out as we get going and any suggestions are welcome, since my muse is still being a tad awkward haha  
> Alright my flowers, onto the show :)  
> xxxx

                    

 

Cold, bitter and clawing, had settled over New York. Jack Frost coated the streets in slick ice, the winter sprite no doubt sneering in the dark as he watched the chaos his mischief caused and layers and layers of cold white covered every side walk, disturbed only by the footprints of those hurrying by. Trudging through the snow, nineteen year old Spencer Reid kept his head down, ratted coat just about keeping out the evening chill, not that the boy appeared to notice. Determination kept him moving, only one destination in mind.

Down side streets, mindful of drunks and junkies reaching out in the dark, the teenager slipped by the hands that promised pain and violence. They stalked forward, still intent on their prey, but something about him kept them from approaching and the teenager continued on, unmolested.

Hearing laughter, Spencer smiled to himself, turning the last corner into an abandoned car park where several now sadly called home, he laughed when a horde of children ran straight for him.

“Spencer!”

“Spence!”

“Penny!”

Variations of his name filled his ears and Spencer crouched to receive the onslaught of hugs that went with it. The youth listened to the happy babbling with a patient smile, answering each one calmly and when he heard a familiar crunch of boots, he turned his attention toward the leader of the mish mosh of homeless.

Tall and broad, shaggy brown hair billowed about a face hardened by rough times. Blue eyes held the secrets of so many horrors and yet a warm smile contradicted them. “About time ya got your ass back here kiddo.” The musical lilt of Ireland blended in with the words when he spoke.

Grinning, Spencer straightened dusting snow from his threadbare clothing. “You look good Aidan.”

Howling with laughter Aidan threw an arm about his shoulders, the children moving out of his way. “Ya were always a bad liar Spencer!”

Guided by the bigger man, the teenager followed him toward the centre of the cluttered encampment. A year previous these many faces watched Spencer with suspicion and some hostility, but now, smiles greeted him, hugs and relief blended through and with the wind blustering fiercely, Spencer reached out as he had so many times before and just like that within their little circle the temperature rose by several degrees. Sounds of delight and joy followed. Spencer flushed at the gratitude, it was, after all, never necessary.

But then, Spencer had always thought about his powers as a curse, where others saw them as a gift.

Maybe if his father had looked past it, maybe if his X gene mutation hadn’t been present from birth...But Spencer would never know beyond what he had grown up with and there was no point in dwelling. A premature baby, he had been tiny. His mother often spoke of his creamy skin, tufts of chocolate hair and then, what had shocked the doctors and horrified his father...a set of wings fluttering at his back, with a mix of black, orange and yellow plumage and when he had eventually opened his eyes the sclera were ink black and the irises were the colour of flame.

His mother had called him her little Phoenix. It wasn’t until he was fourteen they realised just how fitting a title it was. He had always had amazing agility, strength, enhanced senses and of course the ability to fly, but it was only during puberty did Spencer learn his full potential. Such as the ability to conjure, control and manipulate fire as well as the temperature around him. A rapid healing factor, something he could pass to others if he really concentrated and what could only be called a sonic scream.

Of course whether or not he could be reborn from the ashes like a true Phoenix, well, it was something yet to be tested.

For his mother it had been just another reason to praise him, for his father, it was the reason William Reid turned his entire world upside down.

“Spence?”

Jolted from his dark thoughts. Spencer smiled sheepishly up at Aidan. “Sorry, drifted.”

Scowling, Aidan shook his head. “Know that face kiddo. Don’t let that bastard wiggle in, he’s not worth a shit to ya.”

If only it were that easy. If anything, everything he was now was down to the cruel mutant hating son of a bitch William Reid. Figuring to shove it down, Spencer waved it away. “Forget it. I’ll eventually get over it. Anyway, Nathan got word to me. Some of your people are disappearing?”

“More than just some,” Aidan scoffed. “Since you left a month ago, we got ten more no longer here.”

“What?!” Spencer exclaimed, eyes wide. “But...How is that even possible? What about the cops, an investigation?!”

“Yeah, they started coming around since yesterday. Some swank feds.” Aidan shook his head with a rough laugh. “Local brass were clearly not happy.”

Heart clenching Spencer reigned in his own nerves. Over the years he had his run ins with every form of law enforcement, including the FBI and it was the latter he distrusted the most. At least where mutant affairs were concerned. Of course no authority figure tended to be pleasant.

Crossing his arms, Spencer kicked at a hunk of snow. “And their opinion on this?”

“Serial killer according to the feds. Something tells me the locals disagree, but then, the smarmy fucks think very little of us anyway.” Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “Ya ain’t gonna play cop are you?”

“Do you have a better idea?” Spencer grouched.

“Yeah, leave the boys in blue to it and stay the hell out of it.”

Stalking off, Aidan snatched up and mug from a nearby makeshift table. From the aroma that hit Spencer’s nose, they had gotten their hands on coffee and though he itched for a cup, he was only passing through. In his usual fashion Aidan drank and bitched. Some Irish was tossed in and Spencer could only assume it was nothing pleasant. Letting him vent, Spencer looked over the camp. Little had changed, but he noted more blankets were needed. Some of the crude homes needed repairs and making a mental list he promised himself to help with it all before moving on again. In all honesty he wished he could stay, never running, but as long as mutants were hated and hunted, he was more a hindrance to them.

“What if I told ya I knew what the bastards want?”

Frowning, Spencer faced Aidan. The man’s whole demeanour had changed. Riddled with guilt and resignation. Cold pooled in his gut. “What did you do?”

“I had no choice kiddo.” Aidan groaned piteously. “It was the only way.”

Heart in his throat, the teenager paled with horror. Aidan had been distracting him! The sudden screech of tires filled Spencer’s ears. The sight of a MRD van was enough to turn his blood even colder and throwing one last look of betrayal toward Aidan, Spencer bolted. Shocked screams filled the air. They had opened fire. Children fled and when the distinct sound of lead meeting flesh hit the air, Spencer hated himself. Down allies at random he ran. Whores snarled curses, their Johns shouting out drunken slurs, but none of it mattered to Spencer. Not when the prospect of getting caught was so much worse. He veered out into traffic and that’s when it all went to hell.

The SUV had been closer than he thought and well, boy meets car, it was obvious who was going to win. Thrown up violently Spencer’s body collided with the wind shield with a sickening crunch. He barely had time to register the pain when he was flung forward, striking asphalt with enough force to rattle his bones and for a moment everything must have shut down because the next Spencer knew two men knelt by him, one assessing and the other asking him questions.

“Kid, kid can you hear me? My name is SSA Derek Morgan with the FBI, I need you to squeeze my hand kid.”

FBI?! Sheer terror got his body lighting up. His healing was in no way finished putting him back together, but Spencer couldn’t wait for his mutation to hurry the hell up. Yanking his hand free, very much aware of broken bones, the teen got himself sitting up. Every muscle screamed in protest.

“No, don’t move...The EMT’s are almost here kid.” The man named Derek Morgan urged, hands settling on Spencer’s slim shoulders. “You need to lie back down.”

Defiantly, Spencer shrugged him off. “No.” He croaked, stumbling to his feet, every inch of him bellowed in protest, blood leaked from precarious places and he was very much aware of a gathered crowd gawking at him. Some backing away when they noticed his eyes. But to his immense relief the MRD were nowhere to be found. Swaying, Spencer blinked when hands caught him. Derek Morgan his misfiring brain supplied. The Agent was talking to him, mouth moving, but no sound. He couldn’t even find it in him to panic when his vision began receding, if anything when it all went away, it was bliss.

Derek grunted the second the kid collapsed against him. He was breathing, and at least less argumentative this way. Carefully he lay him back down. The sight of blood and the teenager’s ghostly pallour had his gut clenching. He may have run out in front of them, but it didn’t make Derek feel any less guilty.

“Morgan.”

Looking up, the Agent sighed. “Hey, Hotch...He’s out cold. I don’t even know where he got the juice to get upright.” Hell, he shouldn’t have been able to at all. From the lay of the boy when the agents had first reached him, his spine had clearly been broken and yet he had managed to get vertical.

Crouching, Hotch shook his head. “I doubt it matters. Once he’s conscious we’ll need to question him. Another homeless boy and he was clearly running from something.”

But what, was the million dollar question.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

A mutant, Spencer was used to coming too on the full alert when needed, but this was insanity. His memory had the odd hole, but the gist of it he had involved a fight with an SUV and asphalt that obviously didn’t go in his favour, followed by passing out. Waking up in a hospital bed with the two FBI agents stood before his bed protectively while shouting back and forth with uniformed cops was the part he was a little confused about.

“He’s a monster!” One cop, hair greying at the edges, snarled in fury. He looked fit to lunge over the FBI and go straight for Spencer.

“Back off!”

Spencer’s eyes snapped in the direction of the very irate Derek Morgan, the only one he recognised, and was surprised to find the Agent palming his gun. He wasn’t used to anyone beyond his mother coming to his defence. Panicked now, Spencer carefully began to extract himself from the hospital bed, realising to his horror his coat had been removed, wings out for all to see. When one of the cops bellowed suddenly and every one of the uniforms pulled a gun, the teenager flared his wings in defence, huddling between the great span of plumage, fiery eyes bright with fear.

“Every idiot intent on harming this boy, OUT!”

Spencer and everyone in the room jumped. A harassed woman, mid to late forties, with a doctor’s coat stood in the doorway. A nurse stood with security at her back and neither looked any less peeved.

“Ma’am—” The greying haired cop began.

“Don’t you ma’am me,” the Doctor hissed, “I said OUT!”

In all honesty, it was amusing to watch a bunch of grown men flee from such a tiny woman. With a sharp biting remark left on their asses, and a gentle order to the waiting nurse, she shut the door and turned toward Spencer’s bed. The Agents hadn’t fully relaxed, but they had moved to give her access.

“Hey Kiddo. I’m Doctor Elizabeth Grey, but you can just call me Lizzie.” With a warm smile Lizzie turned her tablet and accessed the file they had started on him. “You gonna give us a name?”

From the seclusion of his wings, Spencer’s eyes watched her. When they darted briefly toward Derek everyone saw and taking that as a cue, the Agent approached with cautious steps. “Hey kid.” He began gently, smiling when he had his attention. “Easy now, no one is gonna hurt you. You wanna tell us your name?”

Guilt was a hard scent to miss, it clung to the agent in a thick cloud and Spencer cringed in sympathy. “It was my fault.”

“What was kiddo?”

“Y-You hitting me...It was my fault.” Spencer continued in a whisper. “I...I ran out in front of you.”

“Why?” Derek pushed gently while he had the opportunity. “Who were you running from?”

A sharp laugh, wings rustling a little, “I’m a mutant in case you haven’t noticed Agent, that’s a long list.”

Derek knew when a wall had been thrown up and immediately backed off. “So, let’s go back to the first question. What’s your name?”

A brief pause and then, “Spencer, Spencer Reid.”

Derek smiled. “Well hey Spencer. Listen, the Doc just wants to check you over, but I’ll be right here, okay?”

Spencer was reluctant, but after a moment, he retracted his large wings. Lizzie was gentle, professional and tried to keep her amazement over his healing to herself. It had been just over an hour since Spencer had been struck by the SUV and all that remained was some heavy bruising and even those were gradually fading before their eyes. It was remarkable!

“Well kiddo, according to the EMT’s you had several broken bones, lacerations, a possible internal bleed...” Amused eyes glanced over sky blue glasses. “Lucky for you, they seem to have poofed.”

Cheeks flushing, Spencer shrugged. There wasn’t much else he could say. He was well used to his regenerative powers. “So, does that mean I can go? Of course, you can’t make me stay...I’m nineteen...Not a minor, I can discharge myself.”

“Be that as it may, I still would prefer to keep you over night for observation.” Lizzie argued cheerfully. “Don’t worry sweetie, no one will bother you. You are perfectly safe here.”

Spencer doubted that. Safe was something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Too tired to argue and still aching in places, the teenager lay back down, covering himself protectively with his wings, back to the adults in the room, a clear dismissal. Exhaustion weighed heavily and within minutes he was asleep.

With a brief gesture, Lizzie urged the Agents out. With a sigh, she turned to them, shrugging her shoulders. “Agents, I don’t know what he’s mixed up in, or if he knows anything about your case, but he is right, I can’t hold him here if he doesn’t want to stay and nor can any of you unless you have something to charge him with. Most likely, he’ll go back to the streets in the morning.” With a final glance in at the sleeping teen, Lizzie departed to finish out the remainder of her rounds.

“Hotch,” Derek began in irritation once the doctor had left, “We can’t just let him back out there. That kid was terrified enough to flee into moving traffic. Something spooked him badly.”

“What would you have us do, Morgan?” Hotch demanded exasperated. “We can’t force him to come with us.”

“At least convince him to go to a shelter or something.”

“And then what?” Hotch argued. “Most of those shelters are Church run and to most of those extremists mutants are just Demons trying to hide away. Spencer would be safer on the streets.”

Furious, feeling useless, Derek cursed colourfully. A sudden idea came to him, it was a long shot, but it was all they had. Taking out his cell he punched in the number to his favourite tech analyst and hoped for the best.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Spencer woke to soft covers and free of pain. It was nice just to lie there at first, listening to the machines and passing nurses, but Spencer was very much aware he was not alone and whoever the person was, they were an unknown. Sitting up, wings moving with him, Spencer frowned at the sight of a young man lounging in his visitor’s chair.

Long russet hair framed a sharp tanned face and he was dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, a trench coat thrown over the lot. Almost as if he had sensed him, he looked up, sunglasses dropping. A flash of red on black eyes and a radiant smile greeted him. “ _Bonjour_ sleepin’ beauty, ‘bout time y’ woke.”


	2. Cajun Prince

Remy saw and felt the second a wall slammed up around the boy. It clambered all around his emotions and everything in him hardened. According to the FBI agent who had made contact a few hours previous he was nineteen, but Remy was having trouble seeing it. Malnourishment and the cruelty of the cold New York streets had left him smaller looking than nineteen. At best Remy would have guessed sixteen, to the point he intended to double check to be sure the teenager was telling the truth. Assessing, Remy’s eyes took in the rest of the slim form. His wings were extraordinary. Like flames dancing over hot coals. They were larger than Warren’s, probably stronger too. Remy had a feeling he could outfly the stuffy bird boy quite easily and the mischievous side of him was looking forward to seeing it happen. It would certainly make for good entertainment. But what truly drew him in, were his eyes. Like his own, the sclera were black as night, but the irises were the colour of fire. At first when he had opened his eyes, there was a lovely little quirk Remy hadn’t noticed, but now he did. The colours were constantly moving, shifting and burning like a true fire.

It was stunningly beautiful.

“Are you finished staring at me?”

Remy chuckled. Clearly he had not been very subtle. Settling back in his seat the youth tossed aside his paper and smiled pleasantly. “Easy on dem claws, _cher.._.Just takin’ in on who I’m dealin’ wit’. Not even mutants are trustworthy.”

Snorting, Spencer sat up straighter. “Gee, thanks.” Kicking away his blankets, Spencer got himself upright. His legs swayed a little, but he managed not to face plant it and for that he would be forever grateful. Folding his wings tight to his back, Spencer curled his arms across his chest. The other mutant was still staring at him and he was feeling rather exposed in nothing but his borrowed pyjamas, bare feet and tussled bed head. His feathers ruffled a little, wings itching to spread and shield. Instead he asked as diplomatically as he could manage, “Do you have a name?”

Remy smiled, standing smoothly as a cat and executing a rather dramatic bow, he gave his introduction. “Name’s Remy Etienne LeBeau. It’s a pleasure t’ meet y’ Spencer.”

“How did—The agents.” Shaking his head, Spencer turned away from him. “They called a mutant to fix a mutant problem I suppose?”

Remy barked a laugh. “Would y’ have been happier wit’ dem MRD _connards_ waitin’ f’r y’r ass instead? Because trust me, if de local cops had deir way, dat’s who would’ve been waitin’ f’r y’.”

Ignoring that barb, Spencer faced him with a disgruntled expression. “So, what then? Why are you here? You are clearly not from one of those idiotic shelters. No mutant with sense would recommend one and you are most certainly not FBI...So why did they send you?”

Born to the streets, Remy knew a defence when he saw one. Spencer was using hostility like a shield and considering how their kind were treated Remy couldn’t blame him. The Cajun knew it would take time to chip away at it, but nothing ever worth doing was easy to do. His Tante Mattie had taught him that annnnnnnd depending on the situation it could be lots of fun too. “I go by anotha name.” Remy said eventually, figuring it was the fast way to make his point. “Dey call me....Gambit.”

Recognition flashed across Spencer’s face the moment he heard the title. Most mutants had heard of him, or had been in contact, you’d have to be living under a rock not to. But this was a first for the feathered teen. “X-Men? Are you here to recruit me?”

“ _Non,_ ” Remy chuckled, “We ain’t just ‘bout dat. We all started off as students and were given a place t’ get back on our feet. Dat’s why I’m here _cher_ , t’ offer y’ de same, cause, _merde_ , y’ look as if y’ need it.”

Spencer blinked, a brow raising. “Um...No.”

“See, y’... _quoi?!_ ” Remy’s jaw dropped. No? Who said no to Xavier’s?! Without thinking, his next words were truly putting his foot in it. “Are y’ insane?! Y’d rather go back t’ de streets?”

“I don’t need a Knight and shining armour, Remy.” Spencer snapped, the flame of his eyes blazing with his flash of temper. “I don’t need anyone. Now get out.”

“Spencer, I—”

“OUT!”

A little stunned, feeling something fresh a nd raw from the boy, Remy backed off. Spencer’s shoulders had hunched, his body curling as if he was trying to protect himself and though the misery wafting from him was hard to ignore, Remy figured it was best to leave him alone for the moment.  At the door he stopped. “Y’ gotta let people in sometime  _ cher _ , being alone ain’t protectin’ y’rself, it’s just a slow way of killin’ y’rself.” Stepping out, Remy found Derek Morgan waiting. The agent all but leaped to his feet and before he could get excited Remy shook his head. “He doesn’t want our help.”

Derek cursed. “Talk about stubborn.”

“ _Non_ , more like trusted some _homme_ once an’ it bit him in de ass.” Remy had been there more than once and knew the signs in others. “Agent Morgan, Spencer is not gonna come wit’ me. Most likely he’ll sign de discharge papers an’ head out on his own.”

“And then what?” Derek demanded, temper sparking from his frustration. “He’ll just rot on the streets?”

Remy’s responding smile was not hing short of devilish. “Oh wait now, dat’s suggestin’ I’m givin’ up.  _Non_ . Intend t’ follow his skinny ass from here t’  Timbuktu if I need t’.  I can be just as stubborn. He’ll come around,  _mais_ , it’s gonna take some time.”

Temper deflating, Derek smiled gratefully. Certain victims just stuck on the brain some and it hadn’t sat right with him just to walk away from this one. Contacting the X-Men hadn’t been easy, but Garcia could probably hack her way into an orbiting satellite and within the space of a couple of hours she had gotten word to the team of mutants and they had responded in kind.

“Thank you, Remy.” Derek said genuinely, holding out a card. “If you need anything just call me on my cell. We’re around for the time being with this current case.”

“Back at y’ agent, an’ tell dat Penelope of y’rs she won’t be able t’ hack me so easy next time. Not unless it’s f’r fun.” With a final saucy wink, Remy departed, Derek’s laughter following in his wake.

* * *

 

* -*-*-*

* * *

 

Spencer stepped out into the cold crisp morning and tried not regretting the fact he had politely told Remy to go to hell. A warm creature he may have been, but the cold did always feel like pinpricks and enough of a drop in temperature was not a good idea for him. A fact he had learned the hard way unfortunately. At Doctor Lizzie’s insistence AKA near begging,  Spencer wore new clothing, including a comfier coat that hid his tremendous wings. A hair tie held back his mess of curls and in a backpack the Doctor had filled, he had toiletries, clothes, food, some books and some cash. Her generosity was certainly something he would n’t soon forget.

Because it was still early the hospital car park was pretty vacant apart from staff. The odd visitor headed inside, children laughing and one carried balloons for a baby girl by the looks of it. Spencer smiled, but the moment they noticed his eyes,  it was the usual gasp and flee. He told himself it didn’t matter, but it always mattered.

It would always matter.

Leaving the hospital behind, Spencer kept his head down. People avoided him, too preoccupied with getting through the snow covered streets as fast as they possibly could. Thoughts of warm fires and hot beverages more appealing. Shoppers laughed, darting from store to store even so early in the morning, enthralled by whatever sale was on or whatever product was being advertised. Spencer envied their carefree joy, if only briefly. As always he reminded himself, there was no point.

Car horns blared loudly, deafening to Spencer’s sensitive ears and smog clogged his lungs. But it wasn’t enough to hide his ability to scent. When a familiar aroma hit him like a slap, he whirled, eyes blazing and found Aidan stood just feet away. The Irishman started toward him, “Spencer...”

“You have ten seconds to back away, Aidan,” Spencer snarled with a fierceness not often seen from the teenager, “Unless you are in the market for a good barbecue.”

Aidan cursed when he took off. Obviously the teen had no attention of actually waiting for an answer. Dodging shoppers, he jogged after the boy. “Spencer...Damn it, kiddo, will ya listen to me? What the hell else was I supposed to do? Almost twenty of my people have vanished! Some of them turning up dead!”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe come to me? Instead of turning turncoat and attempting to hand me over to a bunch of sociopaths with the same inclinations toward mutants as the Nazi’s had to the Jews!” Spencer seethed. “They would have ripped me apart.”

“No,” Aidan protested meekly, “They...They just wanted to talk to ya.” In all honesty, the excuse sounded just as pathetic to his own ears.

Stopping, Spencer gaped at him. “Are you honestly that stupid, Aidan? Or are you doing this just to annoy me? The MRD are a faction of fools who gather up mutants to shove in cages and torture just for giggles. We are not people to them!”

“I had to protect them!” Aidan defended.

“And what about me?!” Spencer snapped. “The only reason you survived the last two winters is because of _me_!”

People were staring now and at his back Spencer’s wings bulged. The instinct to flare them in defence was a hard one to hold back. He could even feel the heat rising in his hands where the fire wanted to burst to life, but the last thing he needed was for the MRD or the local cops to have a real reason to arrest him. Aidan had gone still. The guilt on his face was real, but as far as Spencer was concerned he could live with it. It would certainly be punishment enough for what the selfish bastard had done.

“I’m not telling you again, Aidan,” Spencer warned, tone frigid, “Back off. We are done here.”

“Don’t do this Spencer. We’re friends.”

Spencer shook his head. “Not any more.”

This time when he walked away, Aidan didn’t follow and Spencer was finding it hard to ignore the pain over it all. Aside from his mother, Aidan had been all he had and now he had nothing and it would remain that way, twice bitten and all that wisdom. With nowhere really to go, Spencer continued on aimlessly, leaving it all to faith for a change. One place was present in his mind, even if it was to do damage control. He needed to know if they were all right and if they tossed him away too, so be it.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

From up on a nearby rooftop Remy watched the entire spectacle intrigued. Huddled under his trench coat, doing his best to ignore the vicious cold stabbing into his tawny skin, the Cajun’s gaze followed Spencer’s every step, including when a man had stopped and pursued him almost desperately. Close enough, Remy had heard every word of the conversation. So this was the reason Spencer had ended up in the hospital? Remy immediately felt bad about his MRD jibe. He hadn’t known that’s who the teenager had been running from and this idiot named Aidan had been the one to all but hand his ass over to them? Yeah, his fingers may have glanced over his _b_ _ō_ once or twice.

The altercation didn’t last long. The pair separating without any bloodshed. Remy was tempted to follow the _connard_ but decided against it. He didn’t want to loose Spencer’s trail after all and he was lucky so far the boy hadn’t noticed him. Remy was a damn good tracker and stealthy as hell, but Spencer’s mutation was of the animal kingdom variety and Remy didn’t know if he could smell or hear him the way Logan could. Of course speak of the devil, or think of him as it were because wasn’t that the moment the growly bastard decided to ring. Remy’s tone was positively jovial when he answered the call. “ _Bonjour_ Wolvie, missin’ dis Cajun already, _oui_?”

“ _Like a hole in the head, Gumbo.”_ Came the gruff reply. _“I’m checkin’ in ya menace. Chuck wants to know the situation.”_

“Honestly, not goin’ de way I planned _mon ami._ ” Chuckling, Remy started after the teen in question, mindful not to be noticed by him or anyone else. “We got a stubborn one, Wolvie. Trust less dan y’ do.”

Logan barked a laugh, because honestly it was the truth. _“And that’s sayin’ something. Gumbo. What we dealin’ with then?”_

“Claims he’s nineteen.” Remy started, picking Spencer from the crowd as he followed him. “Possible he is, _mais_ o’ course bein’ on de streets means I can’t be sure an’ his emotions ain’t easy t’ pick up on. Skittish as an unbroken stallion, dat’s f’r sure. Some _connard_ bastard tried handing him over to MRD.”

Cursing a blue streak, Logan ranted a moment before settling down. _“Did they get him_ _long enough to hurt him_ _?”_

“ _Non,_ he got away from dem. But was messed up bad after running out in front an SUV. Lucky shit has some serious regenerative powers, so he hasn’t a scratch on him now.”

“ _Well that’s good, at least. What’s the plan now?”_

“Keep on his ass till I annoy him enough dat he agrees t’ do just ‘bout anyt’in I say.” Remy responded cheerfully, smile only widening when Logan’s deep chuckle filled his ears.

“ _Alright, Gumbo, then get to it and make sure to check in.”_

“Y’ got it _cher_.” Hanging up, Remy pocketed his cell and—“ _Merde_!” In a blink he had lost sight of his self appointed charge. The streets weren’t exactly bustling, but nor was Spencer among them. “Well y’ shit, y’ made me.” Laughing to himself, Remy shook off the annoyance. This kid was more of a challenge than he had had in a long while. Grinning to himself, he picked a random direction nearest to where he had last seen Spencer, “Dis is gonna be fun.”

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Making Remy had been almost too damn easy. Spencer had copped onto him back at the hospital and he played along until it was easier to shake him. He wasn’t about to lead the X-Man to where he was going.

Snow had started to fall again as Spencer made his way back toward Aidan’s group. He used his powers to keep the cold out, the white flakes melting and steaming away once they reached his invisible barrier of warmth. Spencer heard no laughter this time when he came around the last turn to the encampment and when he saw all the disarray that had been caused by the MRD, his heart clenched.

The children were more subdued. If they noticed Spencer, they gave no sign of it.

The mess of hovels had been trampled. The homeless worked tirelessly to fix what they could trembling against the bitter temperatures and when someone finally noticed him, it was Nina. Pretty much Aidan’s second-in-command. With a gesture of her hand, Nina set everyone back to working before she approached the watching teen. There was a fury in her stride that Spencer didn’t like, tensing his muscles.

“What do you want, Spencer?” Nina snapped once she was beside him. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Shocked, Spencer blinked. “Damage? This...Aidan did this! He set the MRD on me!”

“You’re a mutant. You were bound to lead to trouble eventually.” Nina retorted angrily. “I warned Aidan not to let you in, but no, you meant well.”

“That’s not fair, Nina.” Spencer clenched his fists, irises shifting with heat. “I saved your life, or have you forgotten?”

“I never asked you too.”

Others had gathered. Discerning eyes watching, a threat waiting. Whatever trust he had gained was gone now. But he still needed to know. “How many dead, Nina?”

“Seven, one of which was a child.” Nina shook her head. “Just leave Spencer. Leave and don’t come back.”

She walked away without waiting for an answer. Spencer wouldn’t have even tried to follow, not when the callous way she had blurted out the death toll had froze him to the spot. Shame wiggled in, with a sense of isolation. These people had thrown him away so easily and hating them just a little bit for it, Spencer left, his footsteps vanishing in the snow, the last whisper, saying he was ever there.


	3. Understandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!!!!  
> Here's my gift to ye my flowers!  
> ENJOY!  
> :)  
> xxxxx

Morgan stomped from the station, fury locked in every stride. The case had been shutdown, the team told to just forget about it on a government order all because this was apparently a hunt for a dangerous mutant? And to have his ass chewed for apparently letting said dangerous mutant get away?! It was insane!

“Morgan.”

Turning, eyes blazing, Derek was tempted to snarl. “This is bullshit, JJ. Spencer isn’t dangerous. That kid was terrified!”

With a sigh, the blonde didn’t bother reaching out. She doubted he wanted the comfort. “I know, Morgan. But our hands are tied here. We’ve no authority—”

“So another innocent gets lifted by the MRD?!” Derek seethed. “Gets pulled apart under a crap charge?”

When he whirled away and marched off, JJ let him. Honestly, she couldn’t blame him. Derek had his own reasons for hating the MRD and whatever they were, he was unwilling to share, but it did mean any case involving a mutant, especially mutant kids tended to cut him raw. Shaking her head, JJ headed back inside to do damage control.

Temper carried Derek far. He just barely noticed the cold. It felt like years since he left that poor kid back at the hospital, and even when it someday would be years it would forever sting the same. _“Derek...Der! Don’t let them take me!”_ Oh that voice, it echoed through him. The one nightmare he had never been able to shake.

Aimlessly Morgan wandered in an effort to get away from the old ache until to his surprise he stumbled upon a familiar face and the last one he expected to see.

Spencer found a quiet spot in the nearest park. All around was dried grass where he had used his powers to banish the snow and cold wet. Old trees stooped like old men, gnarled branches reaching out like twisted fingers and aside from the odd bird, Spencer was alone. It was peaceful. A peace he didn’t often get. Hunger irritated his stomach a little, but Spencer ignored it and when a robin approached him, he smiled with amusement. Birds tended to gravitate toward him. He had always figured it was his mutation and honestly, he didn’t mind the company.

“Hello little one,” Spencer greeted when the robin hopped up onto his knee. “Are you all alone? I know how that feels.”

“Then why do you chose it?”

Startled, Spencer jumped and the robin flew away. Scrambling to his feet the teenager turned and frowned when he found the last person he was expecting to see. “What do you want Agent Morgan?”

“I was walking and there you were.” Derek shrugged. “No conspiracy, kid.”

Muscles relaxing a little, Spencer kept his eyes firmly on the approaching agent. This could still have been a ploy from the MRD and yet when Derek reached him, all he did was drop down on the dry grass next to him. Spencer continued to stand for a moment, before sitting too, careful to keep a distance between them. “I thought you had a case?”

“It was tossed, for lack of a better word,” Derek’s gaze zeroed in on him, “but, you probably expected that...MRD ring any bells?”

Spencer sneered. “Several and if this is a dig because I didn’t tell you, what would have been the point? The MRD are very good at coming up with evidence to back up their claims. Either that or being a mutant is enough and anything above a Class three is a justifiable in their eyes.”

“Class three?”

“Our powers fall into a set scale regards strength, Agent,” Spencer explained calmly, “Class one being your weakest and a Class five being the most powerful. I, myself, am a Class four.”

“And yet the mutants that tend to cause trouble aren’t all that powerful.” Derek pointed out. “I’ve only come across the odd one with a very minor power giving us grief.”

Spencer barked a laugh. “Oh, believe me, we’ve pointed that out, but no, we’re the ones considered the threat. Anyone is dangerous, Agent. But this isn’t about danger, it’s about humanity’s fear of the unknown.”

“Do you know what they want from you?” Derek asked curiously.

“No,” Spencer replied with a shrug, “but I have my theories, and not all of them pleasant. I doubt I would still be in one piece.”

“Then don’t be a dummy, kid,” Derek snapped out, “Take Remy’s help and get the hell out of here. Unless the idea of becoming a laboratory specimen appeals to you.”

Derek’s sudden ferocity startled Spencer. He went still, eyes narrowing, the irises flashing a little. “What does it matter to you?”

Lurching to his feet, Derek cursed. He kicked at the snow at the edge of the grass and had to push down the obscene desire to punch a tree. The next words he spoke felt like glass in his throat. “When I was a kid, growing up in Chicago, we had these neighbours. They were really quiet, kept to themselves. They were living beside us six months before we even knew they had a kid. She was my age, named Amy and we became friends. After a few months I found out she was a mutant.”

Intrigued, Spencer found himself asking, “What happened to her?”

“We were goofing off, I had climbed a tree in the park when the branch broke. Amy had the ability to manipulate the earth and saved my ass.” Derek chuckled lowly. “She conjured a new tree out of the ground with just a wave of her hand, it was amazing and I was able to go home without a scratch. That night we all woke to shouts. We went to look just as men in MRD uniforms dragged Amy away. She was screaming for me to help her, but I...I froze. I stood there and did nothing.”

“How old were you?” Spencer asked after a moment.

“Thirteen.”

Spencer’s eyes softened. The agents pain was genuine. “You were a child, Agent Morgan. There was nothing you could have done. The MRD are not known for being lenient with mutant sympathizers.”

“It doesn’t stop the guilt, kiddo. I never saw her again and I still get nightmares.” Derek’s eyes bore into Spencer. “I know what the MRD are capable of and I know just how hurtful others can be too. But locking yourself down, blocking everyone out, what will it achieve?”

Wrapping his arms about himself, craving his wings, Spencer looked away from him. His eyes took in the beauty around him. The robin sat watching them. It made Spencer smile a little. Derek waited him out. When the kid wanted to talk he would.

“What if they hurt me?” Spencer finally asked in a small voice. “I...I can’t deal with betrayal again...I just can’t.”

“And I understand that,” Derek said gently, “But these are good people, Spencer and if anything happens...anything at all. Call me.”

When Derek offered his card, Spencer took it hesitantly. With a quick glance he memorised the details before pocketing it. The pair spoke for a little while longer. About nothing in particular and parted ways feeling better than they had been. Looking toward where he had lost Remy, Spencer groaned to himself. It was time to find the annoying Cajun and take him up on what was offered. Spencer just hoped he wouldn’t regret it later.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Cursing in every language he knew Remy flopped onto a random bench and yanked out a cigarette. A couple gave his disgruntled self a wide birth and lighting up, Remy took a relieved drag, his senses quickly relaxing. He had spent the last few hours attempting to hunt Spencer down and much to his frustration Remy had got nowhere. It was as if the boy had vanished. Tossing his head back, the Cajun closed his eyes and took another pull on his cigarette.

“Six minutes.”

Eyes bursting open, Remy jumped, turning to find Spencer sitting next to him. How the hell had he snuck up on him? Sat cross legged, Spencer’s eyes were on a book, rapidly turning pages. “ _Quoi?_ ”

“Six minutes,” Spencer repeated, “Cigarettes, they take six minutes off your life with every one you smoke.”

Amused, Remy sent a pink spark along the cancer stick and tossed it into the air. It disappeared with a pop and a fizzle. “Been lookin’ f’r y’ kid. Y’ ain’t an easy one t’ find.”

“Or keep track of, hmm?” Spencer’s eyes lifted, expression amused.

Remy threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “Oh, I like y’. Y’ got a nice cheeky streak on y’, _cher._ ”

Spencer shrugged. “It keeps things interesting I suppose.”

“Any reason y’r on m’ ass? Y’ were happy t’ tell me t’ get lost earlier.”

“I ran into Agent Morgan,” Spencer responded honestly, “we talked and I...I agreed to give you a chance.”

Remy kept his surprise to himself and inwardly swore to send the agent a God damn fruit basket. Obviously without realising it Derek had created an instant bond with the teenager. Remy wondered if the agent even knew what a gift he had been given because from what little he knew about Spencer, the boy didn’t give his trust easily. “I plan on headin’ back once food is in m’ belly. Y’ got any stops, or is dat good f’r y’?”

“That’s a plan. I’ve nowhere I need to go.” Standing up, Spencer studied him shrewdly. “Just so you know, I can fry you in a heartbeat should you do anything stupid.”

Remy barked a laugh. “Oh really? Y’ carry matches on y’, spitfire?”

Spencer grinned deviously and held out his hand. He had the pleasure of watching Remy jump when a ball of fire burst to life on his outstretched palm. “Not exactly.”

“Well look at y’, a true little phoenix, _non_?” Grinning, Remy grabbed his bag and got vertical. “Alright Fawkes, lets go get grub and head f’r home.”

The _‘little phoenix’_ softened Spencer in a way Remy wouldn’t have understood, but the ‘ _Fawkes’_ left him blinking. Who on Earth was Fawkes? Grabbing his stuff, Spencer followed the long legged Cajun, figuring he’d ask later.

For Remy food was a little diner name Lilli-Mae’s. Honestly, Spencer had thought they’d grab sandwiches inconspicuously, but Remy clearly had no issues striding into a crowded restaurant instead. Curious eyes followed them, the odd hostile. Spencer kept close to Remy hoping none would be stupid enough to start something.

“Remy!” Called a plump woman jubilantly, blue eyes lit up bright. “About time you got your scrawny ass back here!”

Laughing, Remy accepted her hug and kisses on his cheek. “ _D_ _é_ _sol_ _é_ _, cher,_ been crazy busy. Didn’t intend not t’ visit de loveliest lady in New York.”

“Scamp!” The woman chortled before she zeroed in on Spencer. “And who might this be?”

Spencer had his eyes down, fingers twisting as he shifted agitatedly on his feet. “S-Spencer.” He replied shyly.

“Spencer is gonna be de newest student o’ ours,” Remy explained. “Dis is Kacey Peters, _petit_. She owns Lilli-Mae’s.”

“Y’all can call me CeeCee and in my house, we look up at our hosts.” Words encouraging with just a hint of force, CeeCee waited patiently, smiling when Spencer finally lifted his gaze. “Well look at you bright eyes. Don’t you be hiding away. You ain’t got nothing to hide sweetness and never think different.”

“Jesus, CeeCee! Are you done with the mutant freak love fest?”

Spencer jumped backing away and CeeCee faced a man who held a thunderous expression. Remy had gone rigid, one hand sliding into his coat, the other moving to guard Spencer. “If you or anyone got a problem Cal, then say it...Don’t have patience for beating about the bush.”

Cal snarled a curse. “I heard you were allowing this filth it, but I never actually believed in.”

Others had stood, some looking just as angry as Cal. CeeCee snorted, “Well the lot of y’all know what to do then, pay your bills and git and don’t let the door hit you in the butts on the way out.” Clearly none had expected her just to dismiss them like that. Spencer watched horrified as half the diners occupants got up, paid and left. Just like that they had lost CeeCee fifty percent of her evening’s business. Catching sight of his expression, CeeCee pointed her finger. “Don’t even think of apologising...I don’t tolerate discrimination, not now, not ever...Now grab a booth boys, I’ll be with you in a second.”

Remy steered Spencer toward a booth away from whoever had remained. He wasn’t about to stress the kid out any more than he was. One of CeeCee’s waitresses dropped over menus and Remy grinned cheerfully. “Order anyt’in _petit_ , y’ need de calories. _Merde_ , y’r skinny as a gnat.”

Flushing Spencer opened the menu and his stomach growled in anticipation. Aside from his stay in the hospital, he hadn’t eaten regularly in weeks and he was no idiot to turn down a free meal. They ordered and Remy didn’t say much while they ate, mostly observing and what he saw was sad. Spencer flinched whenever anyone got near and when the food was served, the teenager curled around the plate as if afraid someone was going to take it from him. Only when tummies were full, did Remy try conversation. “Y’ ain’t used t’ folks being kind.”

“You’re referring to CeeCee I presume?” Spencer asked casually, sipping at the coffee one of the waitresses had dropped over.

“Referrin’ t’ anyone, Fawkes,” Remy replied with a shrug. “Y’ look at everyone as if dey’re gonna hurt y’. Y’ got dis wall of defence an’ a walk ‘bout y’ as if y’r always waitin’ f’r an attack.”

Spencer took in his words, watching his coffee ripple and move. The steam dancing along the rim of the cup. For several minutes he didn’t speak and when he did, Remy would honestly never forget the words as long as he lived. “When I was fourteen, a few months after my fire abilities manifested I was just walking aimlessly I guess, when I heard screams. A house nearby was on fire and this woman was screaming trying to get by the fireman holding her. Her baby was still trapped inside you see and she hadn’t been able to get to her.

I didn’t think, I just acted. The fire couldn’t hurt me and with my senses, even from there I could hear the baby crying. I shed my coat and flew right up to the top window. There were shouts of surprise...I broke the window and there she was in her crib, the fire just outside her door. Another few minutes and no one would have saved her. Grabbing her I flew to safety. I remember the woman was so grateful when she took her daughter from me, but the others, they were so angry...” Spencer swallowed heavily. “They grabbed me and managed to get a dampening collar about my throat. The woman begged to stop, but they wouldn’t listen. There were too many to fight back and they beat me until I thought I was going to die...I could taste blood...could feel several broken bones and when I thought they were done they...they c-cut off my wings...”

“ _Dieu,_ ” Remy croaked, thoroughly horrified.

“They grew back,” Spencer choked out, tears falling now, “The minute I had access to my powers again, they grew back...But I’ll never forget the pain, Remy or just how damn terrified I was...I can never, ever forget any of it.”

Remy didn’t care if Spencer set his ass on fire. In that moment all bets were off. Moving quick as a cat, Remy slipped in beside the teenager and gathered him close. At first Spencer went rigid, but after a moment the youth melted against the Cajun and with it the sobs came, tears flooding. “Oh, _cher_ , dat’s it, let it all out now...Y’r safe here, Remy’s got y’.”

Lost to his emotions Spencer clung onto him. It had been a very long time since he had felt even remotely safe enough for such an epic breakdown and there was something about Remy that made him want to reach out rather than run. By the time the tears calmed, vaguely aware of Remy saying something to CeeCee, Spencer noticed their table had been cleared and Remy had even paid the bill. Humiliation burned the teenager’s cheeks and he made quick work of disentangling himself from the red eyed man.

“Don’t y’ be embarrassed, _cher_ ,” Remy chided gently, “we’re all entitled t’ our bad days.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Climbing from the booth the pair grabbed their belongings and on the way toward the door, the pair passed their lovely host. CeeCee pointed a finger toward them both. “Don’t leave it too long before another visit, you hear me Remy? And be sure to bring your sweet friend. That boy needs fattening up.”

Laughing when Spencer flushed crimson, Remy guided him out, calling out a last goodbye. Heading towards his car, Remy opened the passenger door and gestured. “In y’ get Fawkes.”

Scowling, Spencer climbed in, waiting until Remy was behind the wheel before asking. “Why do you insist on calling me Fawkes? I have never heard that name before.”

“ _Quoi?!_ ” Remy exclaimed. “Y’ don’t... _Mais_ surely... _Merde! Cher_ , y’ need an’ education on good literature and pronto.” Putting the car into drive, the grin that followed was positively impish. “Lucky f’r y’, y’ got Remy t’ help y’ out.”

Somewhere along the line, Spencer had a feeling he would regret ever asking.


	4. Bits and Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!  
> LOL  
> Enjoy your New Year gift xxxxx

Xavier’s institute was enormous, it was the first thing Spencer noticed upon arriving. The building towered several floors up and spread out in such a span, the teen was sure you needed more than a few hours to thoroughly see it all. Remy parked inside a huge garage. He was chattering away, but Spencer wasn’t paying much heed, too engrossed in his new surroundings. Cars and motorcycles of every make were all around them and everything was in a positively pristine condition.

“Fawkes!” Jolted from his random daydreams, Spencer twisted. Remy stood by a door a few feet away looking amused, “Head outta de clouds dere, _cher_. Time t’ meet some of de family.”

Nervous didn’t even begin to cover what Spencer was feeling in that moment. He didn’t do well with others and that really had nothing do with Spencer’s mutation and more to do with his unique personality. A doctor had once labelled him on the Autistic spectrum, but it had never been made official. His mother had been already lost to her illness by then and it hadn’t been a priority. Following Remy, the Cajun led him up a flight of stairs and into a connecting corridor. The walls were made of stone and frigidly cold, but another door and they were in a plush hall with Persian carpets and stunning paintings everywhere. Marble statues stood at different corners and hearing voices, Spencer jumped when several teenagers and children thundered by, rushing down a grand staircase of deep mahogany wood.

“Hey!” Remy hollered. “Slow y’r butts down!”

“Sorry!”

“Sorry, Remy!”

Shaking his head with slight exasperation, Remy brought Spencer to a large study. Books filled shelves all along the back wall. A fire crackled in a large hearth and at its centre was a man sat behind an impressive hand carved oak desk. Brown eyes lifted from a pile of paperwork and the smile was warm.

“Welcome. Spencer Reid, I presume?”

Grunting when Remy gently shoved him forward, Spencer tossed him a glare before facing the man again. “You would be correct. I can only assume you are Charles Xavier.”

With a smile Xavier touched a switch on the arm of his chair and moved toward them. If Spencer was surprised by his lack of mobility he didn’t let on. Xavier studied the boy, catching the odd stray thought. Impressively Spencer had no way of keeping him out, but he was skilled in moving his thoughts around in an effort to protect them. “How old are you, Spencer?”

“Nineteen,” the teenager answered promptly.

There was no lie in his response, that much was certain. “And your parents? Family?”

Muscles tensing, Spencer’s expression became instantly shuttered. Arms wrapping about himself, he turned away from Xavier. “I don’t have any.”

There was a lie in his response. Xavier picked up on it immediately, but couldn’t pinpoint what the lie was. It was clear he had upset the teenager and honestly it wouldn’t be the first time. For most mutants, families tended to be quite the sore spot. Most of his students had been abandoned by theirs and it seemed as if Spencer had been no exception.

“Easy, _cher_.” Remy said with a gentle tone. “De Prof has t’ ask dese t’ings. But it ain’t an interrogation. How ‘bout we have a look around de institute, _oui_? Den y’ can get a good look at y’r new home.”

Spencer nodded at the suggestion. Deep down he knew Xavier meant no harm, but anything to do with his family tended to be a raw wound in his heart and always put his back up. Forcing himself to cool his temper, Spencer followed Remy and Xavier out of the large study. In the distance he could hear the loud chatter and laughter of a mix of children and teenagers, as well as some adults. It sounded like dinner and insanity all rolled into one. From the study they ventured the halls. Remy had called ahead and a room had been set up for Spencer right across the hall from Remy himself. The Cajun intended to keep an eye on him apparently. The room itself was stunning. With a large bed, shelves for books and a desk, it was perfect. The colours were a mix of cream and different browns and the windows opened out onto an amazing balcony. It was more than Spencer had had in a long time. But the best part of it all had to be the grounds of the school. Greenery spread out in all different shades, flowers and trees were planted everywhere and in several spots Spencer could see students in groups laughing and talking. Most were ordinary looking, while some were quite obviously mutants.

It all felt safe and warm.

To Spencer, it felt like coming home.

Leaving Remy to finish off the rest of the tour, Xavier headed back inside out of the cold. Lacking in mobility he had been feeling the sharp wind a little too much. For a bit the pair just walked, enjoying the quiet evening.

“REMY!”

Spencer yelped thumping to his butt when a mutant appeared out of thin air in a burst of black and grey smoke. Spencer had garnered a quick glimpse of blue fur and yellow eyes before tripping over his own feet all sense of tranquillity forgotten.

“Kurt!” Remy scolded sharply. “ _Merde_ , told y’ a hundred times not t’ do dat!”

Expression sheepish, the mutant named Kurt reached down pulling Spencer to his feet, long blue prehensile tail swaying back and forth behind him, “I’m sorry _mein freund._ I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

Spencer dusted himself off nodding, making note of the man’s deep German accent. “I-I’m fine, honestly. If you need to talk to Remy, I can go?”

“ _Nein_ ,” Kurt said with a smile, “Just here to pass on a message. Logan is on his way home and he said to let you know, Remy.”

Remy’s grin was a bright one. “ _Oui_? Y’r gonna love Logan, Fawkes. Wolvie be a good one. Oh! _Désolé,_ Kurt dis is Spencer Reid. Spencer dis is Kurt Wagner.”

“Remy gave you a pet name too?” Kurt chuckled. “He and Logan have long since christened me Elf.”

“It suits y’,” Remy defended playfully, “Wit’ dat blue skin and dem pointy ears.”

With another laugh Kurt disappeared in a flurry of smoke. Spencer jumped a little, studying the dissipating cloud with fascination. He had never met a teleporter before and wondered if Kurt would indulge him at some point with all the questions he wanted to ask. Shoulders aching, Spencer shifted with a wince. His wings were cramping much to his annoyance and of course Remy had to notice.

“Fawkes,” Remy began with an exasperated eye roll, “Dere’s no need t’ hide here. Let dem out, no way squishing dem up like dat is good f’r y’r feathers.”

He would be right about that. It had been known to leave his muscles severely knotted and had on occasion damaged the odd primary feather. Eyes darting about warily, Spencer let out a rough curse. He wasn’t used to having anywhere safe to just be himself. Remy didn’t force him, waiting patiently. He watched the turmoil on the boy’s face. His fingers clenching and unclenching until with another sharp profanity, Spencer shrugged carefully from the coat. Unlike his hospital room Spencer had the room to spread out his wings fully and they were magnificent. From wing tip to wing tip they were huge and clearly bigger than Angel’s set of snowy feathers. Black bordered a mix of red, orange and yellow and when the plumage moved it rippled like fire over burning coals. Remy had never seen anything like them.

Stretching them out, Spencer groaned with relief, muscles loosening. After a good flap, he folded them loosely against his back. He wanted more, to stretch them out and feel clouds teasing against his plumage. He had missed the open sky. “Could I...Eh, m-maybe fly later?” Cheeks flushing, Spencer looked away.

It pained Remy to watch him brace himself. He wondered who had hurt him for asking for something so natural to who he was. “Course y’ can, Fawkes. We’re totally safe here. Dere’s no one f’r miles t’ bother us. Y’ can give y’r feathers all de exercise dey need. Y’d like dat, _oui?_ ”

Spencer’s look was one of surprise before melting into the first real smile and damn it if Remy didn’t immediately vow to himself to see it that more often.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

For the rest of the evening Remy showed Spencer around. Gradually the teenager relaxed and when Remy got even some laughs from the boy, he considered it quite the victory. He introduced him to the others in the house, making sure to avoid certain faces who tended to look down their noses on street kids. Namely a bird boy better known as Warren Worthington III. Some of the students stopped and stared in fascination, while others came right on up to touch Spencer’s wings. He clearly did not like the latter and Remy swiftly warned them off. When hunger began to gnaw at their empty tummies, Remy steered him toward the kitchen and was delighted to find a familiar face sat at the large table.

“Wolvie!”

Looking up from the sandwich he had just thrown together Logan grinned toothily. “Well hello there Gumbo, ‘bout time I saw your scrawny ass. Been back an hour and no sign of ya.”

Laughing heartily Remy embraced him. The familiar scent of the gruff mutant was calming to the young Cajun and if Remy held on a moment more than necessary, Logan didn’t comment. “It’s so good t’ see y’, _mon ami._ Let me introduce y’ t’ de newest of our misfit group, Spencer Reid. Fawkes, dis here is Logan.”

Spencer stiffened when dark blue eyes landed on him. He was taller than Logan he noted, but what the older mutant lacked in height he surely made up for in muscle. He had hair all over, so black it was almost blue and when he smiled his canines were abnormally pronounced. Logan didn’t appear all that scary compared to some, but it was his scent that had Spencer backing away. One predator to another, the teenager was hard pressed not to screech in warning. His wings spread a little, plumage ruffling as the fire blazed in his eyes.

“Spencer!” Remy immediately chided, but Logan quickly waved him away.

“It’s okay, Gumbo. Instinct. I probably smell like a threat to the kid.” Cautiously Logan took a step forward, hand held out. “Not gonna hurt ya. Take a sniff, you’ll see.”

Eyes darting to the hand and back to Logan’s face, Spencer fought the urge to outright attack and bent his head scenting the man. A mix of aromas filled his nose overwhelming for just a moment before he could pick out each individually. All were blended through with motor oil, cigars and leather. He smelled safe. Relaxing, Spencer flushed with embarrassment. “S-Sorry.”

Chuckling, Logan shrugged. “Don’t be squirt. Ya wouldn’t be the first. It’s your mutation reactin’ ta mine.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time either, but it didn’t make it any less mortifying when it did happen. With a fight avoided, Remy set about making sandwiches for himself and Spencer. Logan stuck around sharing stories of where he had been for the last several weeks, drawing laughter from both his listeners.

“Y’ ran into ol’ toothie?” Remy interrupted at one point. “T’ought dat _connard_ was outta de country.”

“That had been the word, but nope, came across the growly fucker outside of Wichita.” Noting Spencer’s confused look, Logan smiled over his beer bottle. “By old toothie he means a mutant named Victor Creed. Nasty piece of work who likes to get on my last nerve.”

“Sabretooth,” Spencer croaked, colour draining, “Yeah, I have come across him, unfortunately. It was a couple of years ago and wasn’t pleasant.”

Remy frowned, feeling snippets of emotions from the boy. “Y’ wanna elaborate dere, _cher?_ ”

“Not in the slightest,” Spencer responded a little calmer now. “It’s in the past and it can stay there.”

Remy and Logan exchanged a glance that said a thousand words, but neither man forced the subject. If Spencer wanted to talk, he would talk. But it was clear all possibility of settling had vanished. Just by mentioning Creed, Spencer had tensed up again. Remy realised things were going to be harder than he thought.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

After the snack that went slightly darker than intended, Remy walked Spencer up to his room. The teenager was exhausted and Remy gave him no room to argue as he all but deposited the mutant into bed. Funnily, he had barely reached the door when Spencer was out cold, snoring softly. For a moment he watched him, his face completely peaceful in sleep and because he had noticed the boy seemed to shy away from complete darkness, Remy left the door just open a sliver to allow some illumination. Not tired himself and with his lover Rogue still away on a mission of her own the Cajun headed downstairs and toward the main entertainment room. Of course he instantly regretted it. There was only one person lounging inside for that time and it was one of those faces Remy hadn’t wanted to see.

“Well hello,” Warren greeted snidely from beside the fire, wings rustling at his back and cupping a glass between his hands. “I here you brought back a stray.”

Remy rolled his eyes. Honestly, if anyone else had been sent to pick up Spencer there would be no snark. No, Warren only threw that bullshit at him. In no mood to play nice, the Cajun tossed back his own barb. “Y’ know, y’r name is so damn ironic. Not’in ‘bout y’ is an _ange_.”

Warren gaped a moment. Remy didn’t usually get so sharp, not unless he had backed him firmly into a corner. Temper flaring a little, Warren stood, wings rustling. “Someone’s got some bite to them today.”

“What do y’ want from me, Warren?” Remy snapped irritably. “I’m in no mood f’r y’r harassment.”

Annoyance darkening his eyes, Warren advanced a step, only to come up short when Logan’s familiar form filled the doorway. He threw one last disgusted look in Remy’s direction before stomping out, Logan stepping casually aside. Watching the mutant leave, Logan let out a sigh.

“Remy, ya gonna tell me what that was about?”

“It was no’tin, Wolvie,” Remy lied like he had done numerous times before, turning away from him, doing his best to ignore the inner grief Warren’s behaviour always caused him, Remy repeated the same bitter words. “It’s always no’tin.”

  



	5. Introductions

Spencer woke to blissful warmth and a cloud of softness beneath him. The sounds of laughter and running feet filled his ears and when he managed to finally pry his eyes open it was to the morning light peaking in through thick beige curtains and a grinning Cajun sat at the foot of his bed. Wings bristling the teenager sat up slowly, eyes groggy, the imprint of his sheets marring his right cheek.

“Mornin’ dere, Fawkes,” Remy greeted cheerfully. “Y’ lookin’ _belle_.”

Grunting, Spencer’s eyes narrowed into an irritated scowl. “Remy, you are way too happy for it being so early.”

“Pfft. No such t’ing as t’ happy, _cher_ ,” Remy chided playfully, “Y’ just a grumpy head first t’ing is all.”

Since that was a statement of fact that not even Spencer could argue with, he didn’t bother trying. Kicking away his covers, the boy stretched, wings spreading to loosen the stiff muscles. Remy watched, laughing when a pillow was tossed at his head. “Stop pestering me you menace, and get me to the kitchen. I need coffee before I’m in anyway a decent human being.”

Laughing harder, Remy could barely contain his amusement. Snarky Spencer was entertaining that was for sure. Striding toward the windows, Remy threw the thick curtains wide ignoring Spencer’s irritated curse. The teenager was groggily yanking on his shoes, his hair hilariously all over the place, as if he had been electrocuted. Since he didn’t appear to be very forthcoming on conversation, Remy left him be. The corridors were clearing up as the students rushed toward the kitchens for breakfast. Spencer folded his wings tight in hopes of deterring any wandering fingers. Less polite, Remy snapped something sharply and sent them scurrying, much to Spencer’s amusement and quiet gratitude. The dining area itself could only be described as insane. The occasional power was tossed overhead, voices were risen to an abnormal octave and Spencer couldn’t help but blink at the sight of a broad male covered completely in deep blue fur tossing pancakes on a pan.

“Plates!” The man called out jovially.

Spencer jumped when plates whizzed by him seemingly on their own, but a glance and he noticed a red head with deep green eyes moving a hand and guiding them toward the man who had called for them. Noticing him, she smiled warmly. “Well hello there, you must be Spencer. I’m Jean Grey.”

Several eyes turned toward him, looking over him curiously. Shyly, Spencer gave a hasty wave. “Um, hi.” Just like that he was surrounded by babbling youths. Several names were thrown in his direction such as Jubilee, Bobby and the blue furred mutant turned out to be Hank McCoy. He was an intelligent sort and Spencer instantly liked him. Remy broke up the throng just as quickly as it had formed and Spencer was plopped into a chair with coffee and a stack of pancakes dripping in butter and syrup. It smelled heavenly.

“Tuck in, Fawkes,” Remy told him as he dropped down into the chair beside him, “Cause, _merde_ , y’ not’in but skin an’ bone. We need t’ fatten y’ up _cher_.”

“It’s more my build, than lack of eating, Remy,” Spencer defended, “I have a bird like mutation, essentially. Even my bones are different, to make flight easier.”

“Really? Y’r bones are hollow then, _oui_? Like an actual bird?” Fascinated Remy reached for the sugar to pop in his coffee.

“Not to the same extent as a bird, but enough that I can fly with ease,” Spencer explained.

Across from him, starting on his own breakfast, Hank couldn’t help his curiosity. “Would that make your bones more easily breakable?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. Hollow to an extent, my bones don’t break easily. I honestly don’t know how it works, but I assume it has something to do with my regenerative capabilities. I’ve never really had the opportunity to find out.”

“Could be dey break, but y’ heal t’ fast t’ notice,” Remy pointed out.

“Maybe,” Spencer shrugged. “I am aware of serious breaks, my recent brush with being struck by a car coming to mind, but I don’t normally notice others. I just took it as it was. I had intended to study it closer. Sort of a side project alongside my masters, but it fell by the wayside when I was forced to leave home.”

Frowning, Remy set his mug down. “Masters? Y’ mean college? But y’ told me y’ left home at f’rteen, _cher_.”

Flushing crimson, Spencer resisted the urge to hide behind his wings. “I...Um...Well, I have an IQ of one-eight-seven, an eidetic memory and I can read twenty thousand words per minute. My intelligence allowed me to attend and graduate High School by age twelve. I started at Cal-Tech when I was thirteen and had completed quite a bit of the coursework before I had no choice but to run.”

An eidetic memory? Everything in Remy went cold. He knew what it was and understood now what Spencer had meant when he said he could never forget. Our memories could certainly be the cruellest form of torture. The doors opened, briefly interrupting Hank’s excitable chatter about helping Spencer finish up his education. Remy threw a smile in greeting toward Logan. The gruff mutant wasn’t fully alert yet, time zones still catching up on him after being all over the place the past month and even still, he insisted on being Remy’s check-in. It was hilarious to think Logan had been scoping out an MRD facility when he had phoned Remy a couple of days previous, but wasn’t the least bit surprising. Logan was after all, the most dependable _homme_ Remy had ever met.

“...What do you say?”

Remy blinked, looking between Hank and Spencer. He had missed a good hunk of the conversation and inwardly scolded himself. That’s what he got for zoning out.

“It sounds intriguing, I must admit.” Spencer responded, slim fingers dancing around the rim of his cup. “But I don’t see how it would work. Back then, it was easier, they mostly didn’t care I was a mutant. Now, the MRD are looking for me specifically. Why, I don’t know, but I don’t think heading to college classes and all but putting a beacon on my head would be a good idea.”

Caught up now, Remy grinned. “I’m sure we could sort somet’in, Fawkes. We’ll protect y’.”

_Maybe._ Spencer thought to himself.  It was possible for him to carry on with his life after it had been obliterated, but wanting to...well...he wasn’t sure if that’s the Spencer he wanted to be  any more.

After breakfast Remy and Spencer helped clean the dishes. Spencer found he really liked Hank, though Jean’s less than discreet probing left him a tad abrasive with her and he wondered if she were a telepath or empath alongside her telekinesis. He would ask Remy later. Logan was also someone Spencer enjoyed conversing with. The growly little man had joined them once he had retrieved his coffee and they ended up chatting for a while. He had quite a fascinating  bunch of stories and interesting personality to back it up.

“Hey, Fawkes!”

Putting away the last of the plates,  pulled from his  pondering, Spencer turned to Remy. “Yes?”

Remy grinned tossing the dish cloth into the hamper by his side. “Y’ up f’r stretchin’ dem wings? T’ought y’ might like a good fly.”

S pencer couldn’t help it, he laughed in delight and with a quick nod went to follow the Cajun, wings rustling in anticipation.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

It was warmer than it had been, but not by much. Muscles slick with sweat, bare foot and wearing only sweat pants, Warren sank into another squat, holding th e position for several seconds before straightening and repeating the action. For him, it was his morning ritual  before he went for breakfast  and kept the body taunt, strong and ready. Hearing laughter, Warren turned, snowy wings  shifting at his back and the cool wind tossing his blonde hair. He caught sight of Remy striding down the front steps of the mansion  and immediately felt a frisson of hatred. His reasons for despising the man were something only the two kn ew about, and it was doubtful it would ever go away.  Behind Remy another figure followed and everything within Warren came to a standstill. He was tall and slim, with long tresses of brown hair that framed a sharp angular face. Fascinating eyes of fire were framed by lush long lashes and wings of dancing flame spread out wide behind him.

He was the stray? This stunning beauty that made Warren’s mouth water and loins tighten? It couldn’t be! Whatever possessed him, Warren was moving forward, intent on meeting the fabulous creature he intended to make his.

Spencer flapped his wings, warming up the muscles.  He hadn’t flown properly in what felt like forever.  Gearing up, getting ready to fly, a new scent hit him and the teenager turned to face the newcomer. Like him, he had large wings, the colour of freshly fallen snow. He was tall, leanly muscled, with blonde hair and brown eyes and for whatever instinctive reason, Spencer disliked him immediately.

“Well hello there,” Warren greeted, casting Remy a brief look of distaste, “You must be our newest member. I’m Warren Worthington III.”

Spencer jolted, recognition immediate. “As in the son of Warren Worthington II? CEO of Worthington Enterprises.”

Warren grinned. “One and the same. You know him?”

“You could say that,” Spencer responded icily, “he tried to get my position at Cal-Tech revoked for being a mutant. Considering his son is clearly one. I’d call that a blatant hypocrisy.” 

Remaining quiet for the moment, Remy had been all but chewed on his tongue to keep from speaking impolitely and when Spencer had spoken like that to the pompous rich boy, well, it was some task not to simply burst out laughing. Especially when Remy caught sight of Warren’s expression. With a joking air, the Cajun couldn’t help but toss out, “well now  _ange_ , dat’s one way t’ break de ice,  _non_ ?” 

“No one asked you,” Warren snapped.

“Easy, feather head,” Remy retorted eyes narrowing. “It’s called a joke. If y’ can’t keep y’r temper, I’ll take Spencer elsewhere t’ have a fly.”

“Spencer, that’s your name?” Warren beamed charmingly, once again passing no remarks on Remy. “Why don’t I join you in this leisurely fly?”

Now Spencer didn’t often feel the urge to show up another person, but Warren was sure asking for it. Especially when he appeared to be humouring Spencer’s flying capabilities. “Sure, Warren.” He eventually replied. “Let’s fly.”

With a grin, Warren spread his wings wide. “I’ll make sure to keep to your pace.”

_Not likely, bucko._ Spencer thought before smiling apologetically toward Remy, “Sorry about this.”

Remy blinked. Sorry? Why was he sorry? Well, a split second later he got his answer. Remy watched as both mutants spread their wings and expected the typical take off he was used to seeing from Warren and instead with one beat of Spencer’s wings both Remy and Warren were knocked thoroughly on their asses. Like a rocket Spencer shot skyward leaving Warren in the dust. Within seconds he was a dot in the sky. “ _Mon dieu!_ ” Remy cried out scrambling to his feet. Heart in his throat he watched Spencer hurtle back to earth. Pulling up just before he hit the ground, Spencer whipped through trees with enough force to bring some of the leaves with him and came to an abrupt stop before Remy and Warren, landing softly with one final whoosh of his wings.

To say their gaping expressions were hilarious was an understatement. But the fact that Warren was still plopped on his butt had to be the funniest of it all. Smiling sweetly, Spencer reached toward him. “Need a hand?”

Mouth snapping shut, Warren flushed crimson. “No.” He barked before getting upright. With a muttered curse he turned and strode away back toward the mansion.  He seethed, blood boiling when he heard the pair laughing in his wake and wondered if Spencer would even be worth it. If he was to be, he would certainly need to keep better company. Plans forming, he didn’t spare a backwards glance.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Around midday after a lot more much needed flying, Spencer found himself being ordered into a huge room that look somewhat like a mini movie theatre. He watched as Remy made a bowl of pop corn that was almost ridiculous in size before joining him in front of a huge TV screen. With a grin the Cajun reached for the remote. “I suppose I could just give y’ de books, but we can just enjoy de movies instead.”

“Movies of what?” Spencer queried.

Instead of answering, Remy booted up the TV and for the next few hours the pair got lost in the first two  _Harry Potter_ movies and finally Spencer knew where  the name  _Fawkes_ had come from. “ You’ve been naming me after a fictional phoenix?” Spencer asked once  _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ had ended.

“It suited y’,” Remy chuckled, gathering up the empty popcorn bowl and soda cans. “If it bothers y’ , o’ course, I can stop, _cher_.”

“No,” Spencer flushed, “It’s...It’s kinda nice. My mom, she used to call me little phoenix.” Just saying it at all gripped miserably at his insides. “She...She was the only one who loved everything about me and as my mutation grew she was proud of me. No one else had ever been proud of me. Not for my intelligence and certainly not my mutation.”

Seeing the tears gathering in his eyes broke Remy’s heart. People left the worst of scars on a person. “What happened t’ her?” He found himself asking.

An agonised look came over Spencer’s features. A war of long ago twisting him up inside. “Dead.” He spat out and before the tears could come, he fled the room, taking his pain and broken memories with him.

 


	6. Screw Ups and Hurt

Remy figured it was a bad idea, but his desire to help Spencer was swiftly overriding logic. The fact was to do his best, he needed to know exactly what had happened and to do that the Cajun needed to get everything on the boy’s background. Now, a lot of it, he could get himself with a few days of frustration, but Remy had a better idea. After going to check on Spencer, the Cajun got a door slammed firmly in his face for his efforts, but since he felt the raw pain surrounding the feathered teen, he wouldn’t take it personally. With Spencer closed off, Remy slipped across to his bedroom and rooted out a scrap of paper from his trench coat. A set of digits written in pink glitter was scrawled over it and fishing out his cell, Remy wasted no time.

“ _Hello, you are through to the Goddess of knowledge, how may I direct your call this day, speak and be heard mortal.”_

Remy couldn’t help it, laughter bubbled free. “A _belle_ sunny greetin’.”

“ _Remy!”_ Came the happy squeal of Penelope Garcia a moment later. _“And here I thought our brief interlude was but a dream.”_

“ _Non_ , a lovely reality,” Remy replied. “Listen, I need a favour. I need information on de boy y’ sent my way. Spencer Reid?”

“ _Oh, yeah? How is the fiery little fox anyway? Giving you much trouble.”_

“Not much, _mais_...” Sighing Remy filled her in on everything he had gotten so far from the boy. “He’s closed off an’ de only way I’m gonna get anywhere wit’ de boy is if I rip off the band aid so t’ speak.”

“ _There’s no going back, Remy, if you do this.”_ Penelope pointed out gently. _“From what little I picked up on the kid, Spencer will be furious.”_

“ _Oui_ an’ yet if I don’t do dis I’m gonna keep one step b’hind till he talks t’ me. I get where y’r at Pen, but I need a way in.” Remy cursed a string in French. “He’s keeping somet’in from us, dat much I can tell.”

“ _Alrighty, gumdrop, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. What do you want to know?”_

“Everyt’in’ on his mama f’r now,” Remy told her, “Somet’in happened dat he ain’t sayin’. Somet’in bad.”

“ _On it, just a second,”_ The clacking of keys crossed lines. Penelope hummed to herself, dark blue eyes dancing between a multitude of screens before one lit up with what she was looking for and it was heartbreaking. _“Oh God.”_

Remy stiffened, “What, _cher_ , what is it?”

“ _Spencer’s ability to create and conjure fire manifested when he was fourteen. His father called in the MRD to take him in after Spencer’s powers caused a mild kitchen fire. When they arrived Spencer accidentally lashed out and in response they opened fire...His mother jumped in to shield him and took the bullets instead...She died within minutes and...”_ Penelope gasped. _“Spencer’s powers went nuts, he killed the MRD agents.”_

So Spencer had lied, he knew exactly why the MRD were after him. There was no way they would have let that go. The boy would be hunted until the MRD had him and how it ended would not be pleasant. “De little shit has been lyin’ t’ us.”

“ _Maybe he was afraid how you’d react.”_ Penelope pointed out softly. _“From what little I can find...You’ve no idea what the poor boy was put through. I’ll send on his file so you can see all of it_ _for yourself.”_

Penelope was true to her word and after hanging up Remy heard the instant ping of his email. The contents of the file were a little bit bigger than the Cajun had expected for a boy only nineteen years old. Penelope had located everything from his birth, to sick days and everything in between, including a list of injuries that were certainly not a young boy being rough and tumbling. No, someone had hurt him plenty over his childhood, including a nasty break to his collarbone, skull fractures and a laceration cut across his lower back. According to the report it was as if someone had tried to cut away his wings and it required over two hundred stitches to repair. Since it was before his regenerative abilities, natural healing had to be enough. The rest was a list of mistreatments during his schooling years, his schooling achievements and the incident with the MRD, but after age fourteen there was nothing, as if Spencer hadn’t existed. He had clearly done everything he could to stay off the radar and now Remy knew why. With a grunt, he pocketed his cell and marched out.

It was time to go chew Spencer’s scrawny ass.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Sitting on his bed, wings splayed out behind him, Spencer stared at the wall, hot tears streaming over his pale cheeks. As always anything to do with his mother had hurt and anger ripping through him in poisonous waves until Spencer could feel nothing but the fire boiling within and terrified he’d loose control he ran and shut the door in Remy’s face rather than risk harming him. Spencer knew he just wanted to help, but he had long since decided he was a lost cause.

Scrubbing the tears away, Spencer rooted out his battered cell. For several minutes he just stared at the device and tried talking himself out of it, but desperation had him punching in the number he had memorised only days before. The greeting he received was a clipped, professional one.

“ _Morgan.”_

“Um, hi...Agent Morgan.” He cringed at his pathetic greeting.

“ _Spencer?”_ Came the shocked reply. _“Jesus, kid, how are you?”_

 _I’m good, I’m fine...I._..The lie was there, at the tip of his tongue and it would have been so easy to just pretend, but the false words wouldn’t come out. In the end, the truth came easier. “I...I could be better, I guess.” There was movement across the line, Spencer heard Morgan excusing himself and a door closing.

“ _Alright, kid...Talk, what’s going on?”_

“Honestly, it’s going to sound idiotic, but...” Just like that Spencer found himself telling Derek everything that had happened so far since arriving at the institute and about his mother and what had happened to her. He told Derek everything that had occurred after he ran away from home and everything in between, including Aidan. With every word a weight lifted from his chest and the tears flowed again until all that was within him untwisted. But one problem remained. “I don’t know how to do it, Agent Morgan, I don’t know how to trust them. Every time they tried to get in...I run...I run, because it’s easier.”

“ _Kiddo, Aidan betrayed you and badly, his actions could have gotten you killed. No one can blame you for being on guard._ _Not even, Remy.”_ Though part of him wanted to chomp on the boy's ass for hiding the situation in regards the MRD, Morgan refrained. It would do no good.

“I almost attacked him,” Spencer sniffled, “The fire...God...I almost lost control, like I did the day my mother died.”

“ _But you didn’t, Spencer. You kept in control and now you’re with people who can help you get a tighter reign on your powers.”_

“And the rest of it?” Spencer asked meekly.

“ _Yeah, you need to spill...No one can help you if you hold things back.”_ Morgan gently scolded. _“From what I know, none of them at that school can say shit about messed up backgrounds. No one expects you to trust them right away. But at least be on the same page, okay?”_

“Okay.”

“ _Good. Call anytime kid, I’ll always answer.”_

Ending the call, Spencer set his phone on the cabinet next to his bed. Cleaning his face, the teenager had about a millisecond of peace before his door was thrown open. Later, Spencer would deny the squeal he let, before setting his eyes on a very peeved Remy. Wings fluffed up, Spencer snapped angrily, “Are you crazy?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Y’r a liar!” Remy growled in response, eyes blazing. “Y’ know exactly why dem _connards_ de MRD are after y’!”

Spencer startled, “What are you talking about?”

“I looked into y’r past, Fawkes. Every bit of it.”

The colour drained from Spencer’s face. He went positively ashen and backed a step away. “You did _what?!_ ”

“I had no choice! Y’ keep holdin’ shit back,” Remy snapped, “Y’ killed MRD agents!”

No, no! How _dare_ he?! “Remy! You are actually going to stand there and justify this?! You had no right to look into my past, none!”

“So y’ would’ve eventually coughed it up, huh? _Merde_ , not likely.”

Humiliated tears burned and Spencer shook his head in disgust. “Screw you, Remy.” He spat before darting toward the balcony. Through his anger he didn’t hear Remy call out. With one shove the windows opened wide, Spencer unfurled his large wings and was airborne before Remy could stop him. Within minutes the teenager was a dot on the horizon, and Remy couldn’t follow.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Several miles away, wind whipping through her snow white fur, a slender fox moved over the frozen earth, electric blue eyes watchful, Her thick tail swayed behind her and no matter how much she tried, the scent she was trying to locate wouldn’t come. The kid was gone! With a ripping snarl in an instant the fox was gone and a girl of eighteen stood in its place. Dressed in all black of cargo pants, boots and a tank top, she had snow white hair pulled back in a thick tail. Her skin was vampire white and her eyes neon blue. They were glacier cold, tongue gliding over pronounced canines and body tense with temper. Trask would give her hell for this and of course, right on cue her cellphone blared. Ripping it from her pocket, she snarled out, “This is Kitsune.”

“ _Well?”_

“Gee, no hello? Trask, you need to work on your conversation skills,” Kitsune snarked. “I’ll start to think you don’t like me.”

“ _Do not test me you wretched girl,”_ Trask hissed in reply, _“Have you located the boy?”_

“He evaded me again. I told you this could happen, it’s harder to track—” Trask’s enraged howl briefly cut her off. “—in the cold.”

“ _Five years!”_ Trask bellowed. _“How has he escaped me for five years?!”_

“Hell, I can’t see why it’s so important to find him. He killed some of your men, big whoop. Recruit and move on.” Kitsune knew she was pushing her luck a little, but she had been on this assignment for weeks and was growing steadily fed up.

“ _Watch it, Kitsune,”_ Trask ground out, _“Unless you want your brother to be a victim to my frustrations.”_

And there it was. A sharp reminder of why she didn’t simply tell Bolivar Trask to take a long walk off a short pier. Not as long as he had his claws in her fourteen year old brother. Kitsune was as good as leashed. Shoulders drooping, she fought back her miserable fury. “What are my orders?”

“ _Good girl.”_

Kitsune could all but feel that dark smile on his face and as she often promised herself, someday she would take the bastard down, even if it meant destroying herself in the process.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Perched atop of a large building not far from the institute, Spencer watched the moon rise. Stars scattered about in a mass of twinkling dancers and if he closed his eyes, he could block out the rest of the world and just enjoy the beauty above him. The cold wind flitted through his feathers and in response, Spencer cast a shield of warm air about himself. No point in risking pneumonia just because Remy was an idiot. Mentally scolding himself, Spencer buried his face in his knees and resisted the urge to scream himself hoarse. Honestly, he was a bigger fool for trusting the Cajun in the first place! It always ended the same way. Spencer let his guard down and took a knife in the back for his efforts. Everything just went up in smoke, he was stupid to think any of it could be different this time and since he had nowhere else to go, he was essentially stuck where he was. Anywhere was better than the streets and for self preservation, Spencer wasn’t about to turn his back on a roof over his head and regular meals.

“SPENCER!”

Spencer let out a rasped shout tumbling backward when a blue face filled his line of vision, his name yelled in his ears. Landing in a heap, wings sprawled, he righted himself, eyes narrowing. “Kurt!”

Exhausted, Kurt hopped down from the edge of the building, tail snapping back and forth. “Don’t get snippy, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Why?” Spencer grouched, dusting himself off. “To apologise to Remy? No doubt he told you what a great big liar I am.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay and Remy is an idiot,” Kurt replied shocking Spencer, “He has no right to judge your choices, Spencer. None of us do. We all have dark pasts, especially Remy. Too bad the stubborn ass didn’t want to be patient. As stupid as he was, he wouldn’t have done it to intentionally hurt you.”

Spencer scowled, “So, what, I just forget about it, is that it?”

Kurt barked a laugh, “Absolutely not! Me? I’d prank him back to the stone age. _Nein_ , I’m just saying, try not judge him on this one screw up.”

It irked Spencer quite a bit that Kurt was being so logical. He knew himself that Remy had meant no harm, that in a moment of pure idiocy, he had been trying to find a way to help Spencer by invading his privacy. He would get the Cajun back, that was for damn sure. “I’ll try.” Spencer eventually sighed.

“That’s all I ask, now, let’s go home.” Smiling, Kurt held out a three fingered hand and when Spencer took it, the pair vanished in a burst of blue-black smoke, a tinge of sulphur left behind.


	7. Lonely Recollections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so SORRRRRRRRRY! It has been stupid crazy. I had the flu, and then ended up in hospital last week with my baby after a cold put him in respiratory distress! He was born at 25 weeks, his immune system takes a beating quite severely, even now at 8 months old and it only got worse when it spread to his kidneys. So 7 days in quarantine, on oxygen and IV antibiotics to get the kiddo back to himself!! O.O Here's hoping not to have a repeat of THAT!!! X_X  
> Anywho, enjoy my flowers!! :D  
> xxx

Teleporting certainly didn’t live up to expectations and after almost loosing his supper all over the Professor’s Persian rug in the foyer, Spencer vowed never again. When he stumbled just a little, Kurt reached out grasping his bicep and kept him steady.

“I’m alright,” Spencer promised immediately.

Expression guilty, Kurt wasn’t buying it, “You sure? You’re as pale as a ghost!”

“Yes, well, once everything stops spinning, I will be much better.”

Kurt patted his back apologetically. Teleportation didn’t agree with most. Remy often described it as being stuffed in a washing machine and popped on spin. This was usually after the Cajun was spectacularly ill afterwards and most often when Kurt had teleported him without warning. Stomach settling, Spencer followed Kurt upstairs. For the hour the halls were still quite busy. Students darted back and forth from rooms, giggling and chattering. Powers flitted about here and there and Spencer heard the odd reprimand following suit. The closer to his and Remy’s floor, it thankfully got a little more settled, or it seemed to until they got to Remy’s room.

“ _Merde,_ Logan, y’r no help!”

“What do ya expect me to say, Gumbo? It was your fault! Ya crossed a line.”

“Damn it, I know dat! I...Fawkes!” Seeing Spencer in the doorway of his room Remy had never felt such relief. Darting toward him he cupped the boy’s face. “Are y’ okay? Are y’ hurt? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Shocked didn’t begin to cover it. Spencer hadn’t expected the Cajun to actually apologise for what he had done. Wiggling away from his grip, he put some distance between them. “Then why did you do it? You didn’t need to know any of it...I...I would have told you eventually!”

Remy flinched. So upset, Spencer wasn’t shielding as much as he usually would. His raw emotions hit him like a slap and picking through the muddle, he knew this wasn’t the first time someone had betrayed his trust. Tossing a look toward Logan and Kurt the pair took the hint and left. Door closing behind them. Remy watched Spencer’s agitated movements and wished desperately he could take it back. “Who hurt y’?” The Cajun found himself asking.

“A man named Aidan,” Spencer responded after a few moments.

Remy recognised the name, though kept that to himself. The man with Irish roots who Spencer had been talking to the day they first met. He already knew the cold bastard had set the MRD on the boy from his observations, but clearly there was more. “What did he do?”

“I trusted him,” Spencer swallowed heavily, arms wrapping about his middle. “I told him everything and he...He handed me over to the God damn MRD! And then you...you...” The words wouldn’t come, choked by his anger, Spencer closed his eyes and took a breath, the fire rising within him.

“I screwed up,” Remy admitted. “In a moment of idiocy, I screwed up an’ I’m sorry Fawkes. I never wanted t’ hurt y’, I was just rippin’ my hair out on how best t’ help y’, when y’ wouldn’t let anyone in.”

“Because your life was any better?” Spencer snapped. “No mutant is innocent!”

“Like I don’t know dat?” Remy argued back, red eyes flashing. “ _Merde_ , done worse, me. Plenty worse.”

“And still you thought you had the right to snoop through my life?” Laughing coldly Spencer sat on the edge of Remy’s rumpled bed. “That is rich. Remy, you barely know me a handful of days. I didn’t think I was on a set time to spill all my secrets to you!”

“Y’ weren’t...aren’t!” The words seemed so pathetic and empty. Remy knew himself he couldn’t take it back, so decided to give the boy a bit of himself instead. “I was abandoned as an _enfant_. Never knew de woman who birthed me, nor de man who helped make me. De first couple of years are a complete blank, but where m’ memory starts ain’t a pleasant one. I grew up on de streets, t’ievin’ f’r dese _connards_ dat didn’t really care a wit ‘bout me. Eating scraps, barely survivin’. If I got t’ close t’ de Church folks who offered help, well, let’s just say, po’ Remy learned never t’ do it again....”

Spencer sat in silence. He listened to Remy recount the most horrific childhood he had ever heard of even after being adopted by Jean-Luc LeBeau and that was before the Cajun started in on everything else. Being sold to a slave trader in his teens, his cousin dying, thieving, working for Nathaniel Essex and the quick marriage and annulment to Bella Donna Boudreaux that ended in bloodshed. Remy told him about his exile, honing his skills to become a master thief and his worst shame. When he finally fell quiet, it was almost two am and the institute was still. Stood by his windows, Remy couldn’t bring himself to look at Spencer.

Speechless at first, Spencer couldn’t find the words. The more Remy had told him, the more he seemed to curl in on himself and it tugged at the younger mutant, and still, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Not f’r pity.” Remy said. “But cause dis should have been de way I did it de first time. Should have told y’ dis over time. Showed y’ it was okay t’ trust me. But I messed up an’ all I can say is I’m sorry over an’ over ‘til y’ believe me.”

“I believe you, Remy,” Spencer replied with a shrug, “I just still think you’re an idiot.”

“I deserve dat.” Feeling something sizzle along his empathy, Remy had but a moments warning before his bedroom door was thrown open and a furious Rogue—who he hadn’t seen in weeks—stomped across the threshold.

“There ya are swamp rat!” She snarled, tossing down her bag. “Logan said—” Catching sight of Remy’s guest, Rogue’s eyes widened a little. Coming across the only mutant still awake, Logan had told her the Cajun was busy, but what the hell was this? “Alright ya mongrel, explain an’ explain fast!”

Remy had only one word on his mind... _Shit!_

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

“You want me to _what?!_ ” Kitsune demanded shrilly. Stood before her Boss, Kitsune had been ordered to report back for new orders. Trask had apparently come up with some devious new plan as to how he would get his hands on the Spencer kid, but this was insane!

Trask looked up from his files, a brow raised and expression unamused. Still hard at work despite the ungodly hour. “Did I stutter, Kitsune? And here I thought I was speaking quite plainly.”

“It’s suicidal!” Kitsune hissed. “Xavier has telepaths at that stupid school of his. They’ll know I’m lying.”

“Those with animal based mutations are harder to read and you are also trained to shield against such abilities.” Trask narrowed his eyes. “Unless you are suggesting you have been lazy with it as of late.”

“As if I’m that stupid,” Kitsune spat back in retort. “The punishment for messing up is in no way worth the risk. But come on Trask! Play the wounded victim and hope they won’t see right through it? What makes you think they’ll believe it?”

Tossing aside yet another file, Trask ventured out from behind his desk. “Simply, because none of them will suspect a mutant is working for the MRD.”

That statement only made her feel like a snake in the grass. Regardless of the shackles wrapped firmly about her throat, Kitsune hated herself. But still, arguing was futile when it came to Trask. “Fine.” The teenager snapped out, the temperature in the room dropping by degrees. “Can I go now?”

“You may. I suggest you put in a visit with that brother of yours,” Trask’s sneer was a dark one. “Just in case.”

Ice in her veins Kitsune turned on her heel and stalked out. The men posted at Trask’s door knew better than to harass her. Not unless they wanted to pick between two outcomes. Getting bit or frozen balls. As always the facility was quite active. Men and women in gear gave her a wide birth and Kitsune did her usual and blocked out the screams of mutants caged behind closed doors. She knew the horrors only too well and she knew exactly what levels she was willing to stoop to when those horrors gave way to raw desperation.

Her rooms were on the lowest floor. She was given freedom to come and go as she pleased, but with one boot on her little brother’s throat, she was still firmly leashed. Down here it was cold and dark. Only her enhanced vision let her see, but beyond a set of huge titanium doors it was a cushy little prison with no way out. A fire crackled in the hearth, books were strewn all over and a fourteen year old boy sat cross-legged at the centre of the mess. Slim bordering on underweight, he possessed silver hair that fell about him in a shimmery waterfall and had skin as white as a snow drop. When he looked up his eyes were electric blue, glowing bright, the shade expansing his pupil and iris, the colour shining like neon against inky black sclera. But it was the blood dripping from his lip and bruise marring his cheek that drew Kitsune’s attention.

“Shit!” Shutting the door behind her, Kitsune darted across the room and dropped to her knees cupping her brother’s face. “ _Shit_! Who the hell used you as a punching bag, Micha?!”

“Who do you think?” The boy snorted pulling out of her grip and standing up. “It’s barely a scratch Inaya, relax.”

“The last time Axel took an interest he...” Swallowing her words, Kitsune reeled in her temper. Her brother hated it if she brought it up and the last thing she needed was Micha not talking to her. Doing a U-turn she growled out. “And don’t call me Inaya!”

“It’s your name,” Micha said with a roll of his eyes. “No matter what that idiot Trask said.” Trask tended to be a touchy subject. Micha hated the man from the bottom of his heart, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t convince his sister to just leave him behind. She was given a way out on a continuous basis, but refused to make that ultimate sacrifice. Pulling irritably at the power dampening collar about his throat, Micha began gathering up his books. Kitsune didn’t bother helping. Her brother had a system and she no longer dared interfere in it. “Where is he sending you now?”

God, how much she would have loved telling him they were going home. That had always been the intention, until Trask had turned out to be nothing they thought he was. This situation hilariously was much worse. “The Xavier institute.” She went for casual, but wasn’t the least bit surprised when Micha whirled to face her, dropping a heavy volume with a resounding thump.

“ _What?!_ ” The word came out strangled and Micha blinked wondering if his brain had short-circuited, but nope, he had heard right. “Are you _insane?!_ Why not just put a rope around your neck and be done with it?!”

Kitsune laughed. “The X-Men don’t exactly go around killing people at random, Micha!”

“They will if they realise you’re working for Trask!” Micha threw his hands up in exasperation. He was honestly furious with her idiocy. “Telepaths, Inaya! Charles Xavier is one of the most powerful ones on the planet.”

“I’m trained!”

“That’s your argument?” Micha seethed. “Trask gives you a few tricks and you’re hoping for the best!”

“Give me a break, Micha!” Kitsune kicked out at the nearby armchair and reeled in her rage before her powers decided to respond. “I can’t say no, you know well I can’t, or it’s your ass in the fire!”

“I never asked you to put my life ahead of yours!” Tears welling, Micha cursed and scrubbed them away. Frustrated with it all, of four years trapped in hell, he grabbed a nearby vase and threw it. The glass shattered with a satisfying smash, water and flowers flying everywhere. Shaking, Micha turned from his sister. “Get out.”

“Micha, I—”

“Just GO!”

Hurt by his harsh words and yet understanding them too, Kitsune retreated. The warmth of their prison was left behind and taking a left, she headed toward the training room in search of Axel. If she were to fool anyone at Xavier’s, then she needed that brutish bastard to make it look convincing.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Spencer stood slowly, flame coloured eyes locked on the woman who was not much older than he was, his wings shifting a little from nerves. She was a petite woman, with messy brown hair streaked with white, creamy skin and eyes a deep green. Dressed head to toe in black, the only bit of flesh that appeared visible was her face and her expression was near murderous. Ruby red lips pulled into a tight line of fury.

“Rogue,” Remy began with a warm but wary smile, “Dis be Spencer Reid. Spencer, dis is m’ girl, Rogue.”

 _His girl?_ Suddenly Rogue’s upset made perfect sense. It probably looked quite bad coming home to some stranger sitting on your lover’s bed. Flushing, Spencer gave a meagre wave. “Um...Hi. I—”

“Not interested,” Rogue snapped angrily before stalking toward Remy, jamming a finger sharply into his chest. “Got bored, did ya? Had ta bring a whore home?!”

Shyness gave way to temper and Spencer flared his wings with a sharp, _“Excuse me?!”_

“Rogue dat’s uncalled f’r,” Remy admonished firmly, “Spencer is a new student. Arrived here a couple of days ago an’ I’m helpin’ him settle in.”

Rogue sneered, “I’ll bet ya are, swamp rat.”

“Does anyone care to listen to what I have to say?” Spencer cut in crossly, grabbing both of their attention. “I have better things to do than to watch you pair bickering like children. Remy, we’ll talk again later...As for you Rogue, first impressions matter and I’ll chalk this up to a bad day on your part. Oh, and just so you know, even if I was a whore, your Cajun couldn’t afford me anyway.”And before either Rogue or Remy could respond Spencer had left, the door closing with a sharp snap and a clear dismissal.

Still the middle of the night, the halls were quiet. Spencer thought about going to his own room, but Rogue had left him irritable and pacing his bedroom for the rest of the night didn’t seem appealing and since the shouting between the pair had started up again, he figured going anywhere else was a better idea. Everywhere else indoors was too quiet, so Spencer headed outside, his mutation easily keeping him protected against the bitter cold. Trees swayed, the grass dancing and all of it was lit up by the moon and stars shining above. Calmed by it, Spencer drifted toward the lake that sat a short walk away from the mansion. An owl hooted overhead and the teenager smiled in greeting.

“Beautiful creatures aren’t they?”

Startled, Spencer spun. To his annoyance he wasn’t the only one who had decided on a walk out to the lake. Warren strode toward him, white wings almost as bright as the moonlight, smiling charmingly. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same,” Warren chuckled. “A bit late...Or very early, I suppose, to be out for a walk.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” A lie, but he wasn’t about to explain the mess going on with Remy and the pistol called Rogue. “You?”

“The same and as much as it frustrated me, now I’m glad.” Grinning, Warren circled about him. “Do you like flowers?”

Spencer blinked, “Flowers...What sort of question is that?”

“Oh, you’re cute,” Warren teased, “Oblivious to being courted.”

He was _what?!_ Spencer couldn’t help it, laughter burst free. “You can’t be serious?” By Warren’s insulted look he clearly was. “I’m sorry, Warren. I’m not interested. Hey!” Wrist suddenly caught in a vice like grip, Spencer looked up at Warren in shock. Teeth gritted he tried to get free. “Let go.”

“I don’t like being refused, Spencer,” Warren ground out. “I usually get what and who I want.”

“Well there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Spencer gave another hard tug. “Now let go, or I will make you let go!”

Whatever response Warren had was swiftly forgotten when the abrupt whirring of an engine filled the silence. The two mutants turned, just in time to see a large aircraft coming in to land, The most surprising thing of all, was the S.H.I.E.L.D logo plastered on its side and Spencer had a feeling they weren’t dropping in just to say hi.


	8. When The World Burns

As the dust settled and the screams began, Kitsune knew one very important thing. She was never asking a favour off of Axel ever again! Giving her a believable black eye, now that’s what she expected. This mess, not so much. When she had found Axel and explained the latest of Trask’s ideas, he had gleefully brought her along to a scheme he was already in the middle of and ready to detonate and by detonate, the lunatic bastard had set off a bomb beneath a mutant shelter with little to no warning, leaving Kitsune lost in a sea of chaos.

Stumbling through a mess of rock and wood, blood seeping from a gash in her forehead caused by flying debris, Kitsune couldn’t find Axel anywhere. She saw so much worse. Blood painted the ground, fires roared all over and with the ceiling still crumbling above and exits blocked, Kitsune wondered if she hadn’t just dug her own grave.

“Help! Someone, HELP!”

The screams came from a girl trapped beneath stone. All Kitsune could see was a bloodied face and a hand reaching in desperation a moment before falling rubble crushed her in a burst of gruesome sound affects. Frozen to the spot, the teenager swallowed heavily. Puking up her guts would do nothing for her or anyone else and yet she found herself doing it anyway. Heaving violently, the metallic tang of blood burning in her nose, Kitsune scrambled away, blinded by dust and crumbling drywall. It clogged her lungs, the pockets of fire belching out poisonous smoke. Dizzy from it all, Kitsune fell to her knees.

She was going to die and the realisation was nothing short of terrifying.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

With Warren distracted, Spencer made his way back to the mansion. Curiosity had him wanting to nose around the S.H.I.E.L.D craft and whoever had dropped in, but getting the hell away from a grabby Warren seemed more of a priority. In an effort to avoid the new arrivals, Spencer spread his wings, intent to fly up to his balcony when his name was called...Well, sort of.

“Fawkes!”

With a groan, Spencer folded his wings and headed in the direction of Remy’s voice. So much for an easy escape. To his annoyance Warren stood with Remy, along with Rogue and a man who Spencer didn’t recognise dressed all in black, one eye covered by an eye patch. Others were beginning to emerge, such as Hank, Logan, Jean, Kurt and the Professor. As well as a couple of faces Spencer had not yet seen. The commotion had the mansion coming to life, heads stuck out from windows, which only led to Logan barking orders for them to get their asses back to bed and before Spencer could even greet them, he was ushered inside and all of them piled into the Professor’s study.

The man from S.H.I.E.L.D looked Spencer up and down with a discerning eye, clearly a little distrustful, “New member on your team?”

“Fury, this is Spencer,” Xavier explained, “Once you contacted me with what we are dealing with, I asked Remy to retrieve him. Spencer, you see, has the ability to control fire.”

Brow raised, Fury nodded, “Handy to have.”

Handy to have? What the _hell_ was going on? Tired and starting to feel a little bit snarky, Spencer decided against politeness. He hated being in the middle of something and not knowing what it was even about. “Would anyone care to fill me in or are you all just going to continue on while I guess?”

Fury barked a laugh, “Oh, I like him. You got some bite in you, kid. Here’s how it is. Someone decided to play target practice with a mutant shelter. Fires have spread almost half a God damn block. I got a body count to make even me squeamish and since it’s gone to hell, I need all hands on deck and what Xavier is getting at, is that also includes you. Questions?”

Something told Spencer, this tended to be Fury’s flavour of the year. Sarcasm with just a hint of always pissed off. Under serious pressure, it was clear that the S.H.I.E.L.D operative had quite the mess to deal with and was certainly not up for the soft touch. Good thing Spencer didn’t need the kid gloves. “When do we leave?”

Fury grunted in reply and Logan growled out a command giving them all only ten minutes to get ready. Xavier said something about getting Spencer gear and for the second time that night he was ushered out and led to one of the lower floors by Remy, the others right behind. Gear turned out to be the X-Men uniform. They were made to suit just about any mutation, Spencer’s included and were an added form of protection. Black as night, the fabric fit him like a second skin. A mix of leather and something Spencer couldn’t identify, he noted kevlar was woven through, placed over major organ and artery sights and on the belt was the X symbol.

Taking a good look at himself in a mirror after slipping his feet into sturdy combat boots, Spencer snorted, shaking his head. “I look ridiculous.”

Remy laughed, snatching up his _b_ _ō_ , “Y’ get used t’ it, _cher_. Besides, better t’ be in somet’in dat can wit’stand a God damn war zone.”

“Is that what we’re going into?” Spencer asked.

Remy nodded, “Most likely. Y’ can back out, Fawkes. No one would t’ink less of y’ f’r it...Y’r not trained f’r combat.”

“Maybe not, but I do have the ability to control those fires,” well sort of, he didn’t bother elaborating and just getting a handle on those fires could make all the difference. “Just so you know, of course, I’m expecting you to get me back in one piece.”

With a salute to that, Remy threw on his signature coat, pocketing playing cards and a few other odds and ends. The last out, the pair joined the rest of the group. Altogether the team consisted of Rogue, Kurt, Logan, Remy, Warren, Bobby, Hank, Jean and the two new faces Spencer had yet to meet. One was a tall man who he heard Logan refer to as Scott, with short brown hair and what appeared to be a visor covering his eyes and made up of some sort of metal and ruby quartz. Cyclops, Spencer realised, this had to be Cyclops. He was well known among mutants for all that he had done, but the girl, Spencer didn’t recognise her. She was petite, with brown hair, creamy skin and blue eyes. Hank called her Kitty and after seeing her walk through a wall Spencer had a fair idea of what her mutation was.

Fury waited for them by the S.H.I.E.L.D aircraft he had arrived in. A grunt and a single gesture, they followed Fury onboard. They were barely strapped in when Fury barked orders and they were airborne.

The whir of the engines were somewhat soothing. But the tension was still there. Spencer looked about at all the battle ready faces, the stiff muscles and from the corner of his eye he saw in the distance a rising plume of smoke and the angry reach of out of control flames.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Kitsune dodged more falling debris, coughing. Dust and smoke clogged her lungs. Her wounds stung, new ones appearing every moment and still she could not find a way out. Using her fox abilities was of no use when she couldn’t scent and with no exit in sight, she was trapped. Bodies lay scattered, while groups of twos and fours huddled together, flinching with each violent rumble of the unstable building.

“H-Help...P-P-Please...”

Startled at first, Kitsune squirmed passed lumps of wall and a wooden beam, following the croaked pleas of what turned out to be a mutant boy, not much older than her brother. Slightly blockier than Micha, he had choppy white hair, sun kissed gold skin and vivid feline gold eyes. If that didn’t give away his mutation, the large cat ears protruding from his scalp sure did. Blood coated the right of his face. At a glance, Kitsune could see the flesh was shredded by glass, some shards remaining stuck. The crimson mess splattered him in patches, but it was his left leg, hip and side that were the most worrisome. Obviously caught in the blast he was riddled with third degree burns...and yet, his eyes were full of something that told Kitsune he wasn’t going into the light too damn easily. Part of her told her to get her ass moving, too bad that logic wasn’t the only one howling in her brain and with a hissed profanity, Kitsune went to the boy.

“Don’t move,” she warned, yanking off her tattered jacket before shoving it under his head, “You got a name, kid?”

“T-Tobias,” he croaked weakly, “T-Tobias Sinclair!”

“I can’t do shit about your injuries, Tobias, but I...I won’t leave you.”

Another rumble and the earth shook. The sounds of screams rose in a horrifying crescendo and Kitsune bent to shield Tobias from any falling debris. Tobias’ whimpers filled her ears and for the first time in years, Kitsune found herself praying to whatever deity would listen.

If she managed to get out of this alive, she promised to make Axel’s life a permanent hell.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Anarchy didn’t begin to describe the scene they landed in. Spencer had seen mutant attacks before, but this was in a league of its own. Firefighters battled against flames that seemed to be only growing, while paramedics rushed about in a muddle of triage and through the smell of ash, the metallic stench of blood was hard to miss.

“Sweet Jesus,” Hank croaked from beside him, eyes wide.

Spencer seconded that statement. The fires were a lot more than he had been expecting and were all but out of control. If they didn’t do something soon, the whole street would be destroyed. There was just one problem. Spencer could manipulate fire with ease if _he_ himself had created it, but if he hadn’t it wasn’t so easy. Despite what people thought, fire had a life of its own. Smaller flames came to heel simply enough, but an inferno like this? Not so much. He could not merely make such raging flames poof from existence...Which left only one other option and it was going to suck to put it mildly.

As agreed upon the jet on the way over there was to be no use of real names. Much to his irritation Remy had swiftly dubbed him Fawkes and since there was little time to argue, Spencer left it as it was. He just hoped no MRD had stuck around and recognised his face.

“Snap outta it,” Fury suddenly barked catching all their attention, “Whichever one of you is in charge get your butts in gear!”

With a gesture of agreement Logan and Scott paired off setting tasks for each of them. Hank and Warren were sent to work alongside the paramedics, while Rogue and Jean dealt with moving rubble. Bobby, Remy, Kurt and Kitty were set to locating survivors and Spencer had only one job and that was to stop the fires. Blocking out the fevered mish mosh of noises, the teenager spread his wings and was up with a single beat. Eyes locking on the churning flames below, Spencer searched for the best way to pull the fire up and away, but first, he created a barrier of heat to contain what already burned, preventing it from spreading further. Ignoring all around him, he began the slow task of dragging the flames away.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Down below Remy shimmied his way through a broken window, dropping gracefully. Bobby, Kurt and Kitty joined him a moment later, all of them taking in the mess in front of them with a sharp curse each.

“De buildin’ ain’t gonna hold,” Remy barked out, “Move it an’ search f’r survivors!”

Easier said than done. The explosion had ripped through the shelter, obliterating whatever and whoever it had touched. Bodies lay scattered about, most unrecognisable and those they did find alive would not survive their injuries. Kurt teleported them out in hopes of granting them comfort in their last minutes. Deeper they went, Remy using his empathy as a guide of sorts. Not that it did much. When emotion did hit him, it was either raw fear or excruciating pain and then there was the brief numb nothingness that came just before death took hold. Too often, Remy felt that and it only made him angrier. Beneath his feet the ground shook, dust falling to dirty his hair and clothing and with each mangled form, the Cajun grew more and more furious. Whoever had done this, they would pay for it dearly.

Remy dodged exposed wires, the crackling of electricity as vicious as a hissing snake. More hunks of brick and mortar tumbled down and Remy couldn’t avoid it all. There would be bruises come the morning, that was for sure. Every so often the others called out about another body. The count was steadily climbing. It wasn’t until the Cajun reached the back of the shelter did he feel anything promising.

Strong waves of emotion pulsed over his empathy and Remy’s heart skipped a bit. Wanting a miracle within this hell he took off running, desperate hope spurring him on.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

More...There always seemed to be more. More power, more flame, more pain and still Spencer siphoned the fire until all that remained was puffs of smoke. Cheers rang out from beneath him, but it was fast becoming a blur. Agony tightened Spencer’s muscles. His head pounded. If he didn’t release what he had taken in, it would end badly. Looking around, while his brain was still functioning somewhat, he tried to find somewhere, anywhere he could let the fire go, but buildings spread out far and wide. It left him only one other way and if he didn’t die from it, well, it would be remarkable. Before it consumed him, Spencer flapped his wings flying higher and higher. The city disappeared beneath him and no longer able to take it, the teenager threw his head back with an inhuman shriek and his world imploded.

Every bit of him felt as if it were being torn apart, the fire raging about him, in him and as soon as it had started it was over. Stomach twisting, head thumping, Spencer’s wings went limp and he plummeted, the last thing he remembered before everything went dark was the noise of an unfamiliar engine and a cold metal hand clasping about his wrist.

  


  


 


	9. Bruised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ick! Honestly, not my best chapter, but it's been a week of crud. Baby ended up in hospital again in respiratory distress--Gotta love winter! -_- --and today 23 years ago my mom left this earth, so I'm less than my usually chirpy cheerful self.   
> Anyway, happy St Patricks and enjoy my gift this Holiday  
> xxxxx

When awareness returned it wasn’t pleasant. Spencer healed fast, but an overload tended to knock him flat for about a day until his body recalibrated. Every inch of him ached from his hair to his toes, but at least he was curled up on something soft and there was no noise. Just peaceful, blissful silence. Of course when Spencer realised the scents were neither recognisable and it was clearly not a hospital room that peace immediately evaporated and his eyes sprang open.

Blinded briefly, Spencer cursed, blinking away the sparks from his retina. Sitting up, the teenager took in the room he was in and gaped. Luxury seemed a small word to describe it, but it certainly came to mind. The bed was enough to fit ten, with sheets made of silk and lush red carpet that felt like a soft cloud beneath Spencer’s bare feet when he climbed from bed. Huge bay windows covered the left wall, brilliant sunlight spilling in and the biggest TV Spencer had ever seen in his life covered the entire wall in front of him.

After a little bit of nosing, Spencer discovered a closet that was almost stupidly big and an ensuite with a swimming pool sized bath tub. Part of his throbbing bones wanted desperately to fill it and climb in, but logic had him rushing to the final door. The one that had to be the door out. It wasn’t locked. The handle turned and the teenager found himself in a hall decorated by carpet and expensive paintings on the wall. There were statues, obscure pieces of art and some stained glass.

Voices drew Spencer’s attention. Doubtful it was anyone intent on hurting him, he followed the sound, wings shifting at his back and well, what he got was quite the surprise. He noticed Remy immediately, but his eyes were drawn more to the dark haired man sat with him, who he instantly recognised, but could scarcely believe he was seeing.

“Well good morning, tweety bird, about time you woke.” Tony Stark stood smoothly. His greetings as always were humorous, bordering on slightly snarky, considering it was early and he had not had nearly enough coffee yet.

Ignoring the _Tweety_ remark, Spencer resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Do either of you care to explain how I got here?”

“I’ll fill you in, squirt,” Tony chirped, “Your feathery ass decided to drop from the sky after you...well...I’m not really sure what you did with those fires. But good job all the same. I came to your rescue and here we are.”

“And where exactly is here?” Spencer asked, curiosity getting the best of him as he ventured deeper into what was the plushiest living-room he had ever been in. The wall in front of him was all glass and from what he could tell they were a couple of floors up and men in gear similar to Fury busied themselves out on the ground. Some looked to be training, others were loitering around and a theory tossed up a light bulb inside Spencer’s head, stunning him. “We’re at the Avengers base.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!” Tony crowed.

“Stark here had all de injured brought here,” Remy explained, “T’ought it’d be best since de press were hungry t’ sink deir teeth into dem an’ we didn’t want any mutant haters goin’ f’r a second round on de survivors.”

Though Spencer didn’t really want the answer, he asked anyway, “How many dead?”

“Thirty dead, eight survivors at last count,” Tony chimed in, “It would have been a lot worse had you not gotten a stopper on those fires. So gold star to you, Hedwig.”

“And I got special treatment because?” Spencer had to ask. He seriously doubted anyone else had Tony Stark seeking after their welfare personally. It was Remy who answered him, however.

Remy snorted, settling back against the couch as he crossed his long legs, “Never mind Stark, _cher_. He was just nosy an’ wanted t’ get a good gawk at y’.”

“Can you blame me?” Tony demanded incredulous. “Not everyday I get my hands on basically a true real life Phoenix! A million questions come to mind.”

“I’m not a mythical creature,” Spencer snarked irritably. “As for what I did, I drew the fire in and then let it go away from everyone.”

“And nearly killed y’rself in de process,” Remy snapped, his simmering temper finally bubbling to the surface. “De hell were y’ t’inkin’, Fawkes?!”

“It wasn’t the smartest of plans, I agree,” Spencer ground out, “But it was effective. Had those fires spread, we’d have a far bigger body count.”

“An’ what, y’r life is forfeit?!”

“Boys!” Tony cut in cheerfully, stepping between them before blows were thrown. “I suggest you settle down, or I may just put you in a time out.”

Spencer swallowed the retort attempting to crawl up his throat. Honestly, it really wasn’t the time or place and though it irked him somewhat, he knew Remy simply cared. The stunt could have very well killed him. Taking a breath, he backed off and reversed back onto safer ground. “How are the survivors?”

“Most are fine,” Tony told him, “Mainly cuts and bruises, but one is in pretty bad shape. His chances aren’t looking good.”

“Beast checked on him a little while ago, _cher_ , but dere ain’t much he can do.” Remy sighed, rooting for his cigarettes. “Honestly, with de pain he’s in, death would be a blessin’.”

“We’re more concerned with keeping him comfortable.”

Spencer turned at the new voice. He had never heard the other approach. Slightly taller than Tony, a lab coat tossed over his civilian clothing, the man carried himself as if always on the defence. Grey speckled through his dark hair, a pen tucked behind his ear, probably forgotten and he shuffled shyly from foot to foot.

“Well don’t just stand there, Banner,” Tony scolded waving him forward, “Come meet our guests. Sylvester and Tweety. Let me introduce Dr Bruce Banner.”

Remy groaned, “ _Merde_ , now I see why Wolvie finds dat annoying. We got names, y’ know, Stark.”

“Don’t,” Bruce warned with a slightly amused expression, “Let him know it annoys you and he’ll see it as a challenge.”

“You’re the Hulk,” Spencer interrupted bluntly.

Long since used to it, Bruce no longer so much as winced when anyone mentioned his green and mean alter ego. “You could say that. The Hulk coexists with me, would be slightly more accurate and as much as I love discussing my darker side, I came to tell Tony that kid is starting to rapidly decline.”

Tony cursed. Honestly, they had enough dead without adding another to the list, especially a kid! In all his years, he honestly had not seen an MRD attack this brutal. Two of the dead were babies, BABIES! And the media were spinning it in a way to favour the MRD! It was downright disgusting. “How much time we talking?”

“An hour or so.”

“And no sign of a family?”

Bruce shook his head, “Natasha is on identities. We’re nailing most of the deceased, and those alive have given details if they wanted to, but so far nothing on him.”

“Can I see him?” Spencer asked abruptly, pulling both men from their conversation. “If that’s alright. If anything, Remy could use his empathy to ease him.”

Remy frowned. What was Spencer up to? Sure, he had no qualms about helping the poor boy, but why did the teenager want to see him? From what Tony had told him of his injuries, they were not a pretty sight. More concerned about comforting the dying boy, both Tony and Bruce readily agreed. The pair of mutants followed them out and Remy wondered if Spencer had a miracle up his sleeve.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Kitsune was pretty sure the cosmos was laughing at her. The Avengers headquarters, really? Of all the places the injured had to be brought, it just had to be here! She was pretty sure she was going to go into cardiac arrest, because seriously her heart couldn’t take the stress. Pacing back and forth, boots clomping in their usual manner, she did her best to drown out the lyrical beeping of machines in her ears. She had insisted on staying with the feline mutant, Tobias, through the excruciating treatment of his burn injuries and even after. But their work had made little difference. Tobias was simply too badly injured and in the last while his heart rate had slowly begun to decline. Kitsune knew he was going to die and there was not a damn thing she could do about it. But at least she could make sure he didn’t die alone.

“K-Kitsune?”

The scratchy drawl of her name drew her attention immediately. “I’m here, kiddo.” Kitsune reassured as she grasped his good hand, petting away some white strands from in front of his eyes. “You in pain? Thirsty?”

Swallowing heavily, Tobias nodded weakly, “T-T-Thirsty.”

Reaching for the water ever present by his beside, Kitsune guided the straw to his chapped lips, gently encouraging him to sip. The attempt was meagre, Tobias just didn’t have the energy anymore, but he managed enough to quench his thirst, before sagging back against the mountain of pillows. Pain had his heart rate spiking a little, pulling free whimpers. Something they had discovered, Tobias burned off medication too fast, including pain relievers.

“Shit, you hurting again?” Kitsune asked, eyes darting over the monitors. “I’ll get someone.”

As if she had summoned them, the doors opened and Tony strode in with three other familiar faces. Bruce had treated her injuries, Remy had saved her ass along with Tobias and though she knew the youngest of them, Kitsune kept that to herself, while also cataloguing some key points. Her target, simply put, reeked of power and she was starting to understand why Trask wanted Spencer so badly.

“Morning, kiddies,” Tony greeted. “Just came to check in on our resident kitten.”

“He’s in pain,” Kitsune responded in a clipped tone, as ever ignoring Tony’s smart ass behaviour. “That shit you gave him is wearing off faster and faster!”

Spencer watched the exchange with mild interest. The boy was a feral, but in his weakened condition, Spencer’s instincts didn’t care. His eyes slid over the gauze covering severe burns and with a sniff he knew there was no infection. The teenager simply didn’t have the strength to keep fighting. Ignoring the childish quarrelling, Spencer made his way toward the bed, eyes assessing. “Remove the gauze.”

Kitsune swallowed back a snarl, head snapping around. “What?!”

“Remove the gauze,” Spencer repeated, speaking now directly to Bruce. “I can’t help unless the gauze is taken away.”

“No!” Kitsune barked, shielding Tobias. “Leave him alone!”

“I’m not going to hurt him,” Spencer promised gently. “Bruce...?”

Bruce didn’t question it. At this point, they needed a miracle to save the boy. Kitsune angrily protested, but with a touch of his empathy, Remy guided her from the bed and gave Bruce the space to remove all the gauze from Tobias’ burns. The poor boy arched with a miserable cry, tears streaming from his closed eyes. He tried to pull away, but Bruce kept him still and worked fast, until the wounds were all exposed. Third degree burns were the obliteration of every layer, destroying pain receptors and making it impossible for the flesh to repair itself without the aid of skin grafts and other treatments. Though most of the wounds itself were numbed, the rest of the surrounding tissue wasn’t, but in a moment it would not matter.

Not if Spencer could help it.

Reaching down, Spencer let his hands hover over the wounds. Blocking everything out, he concentrated. Unlike how his regenerative powers worked on his own body, he couldn’t reverse the injury. What he could do was speed up the healing a little and recharge Tobias’ batteries enough to heal on his own.

Remy kept a hold of Kitsune and watched in awe. Spencer hadn’t moved for several seconds and then his eyes lit up in a burst, his hands took on an eerie glow and Tobias gasped as if jolted. Before their eyes the burns changed, the healing speeding up and the monitors went haywire. Kitsune tried to pull free, but Remy kept a tight hold and just as quickly as it started it was over.

In the aftermath, Bruce immediately ran through an examination. “H-He’s stabilising...Vitals climbing and holding steady...What did you do?” Bruce’s wide eyes locked on Spencer. “You...You can heal others?”

“No,” Spencer answered tiredly, “I...I can’t heal, as in, completely erase an injury. The best I can do is speed up the body’s natural healing. He’ll still need grafts, physical therapy...I’ve simply gotten the reaper off his back.”

“Tears with healing powers,” Remy laughed letting Kitsune go. “Named y’ right, Fawkes. Dat’s f’r sure.”

Kitsune was amazed. Was this kid for real? Trask had said he was powerful, but this was insane. It made her wonder if Bolivar could even control a mutant like him.

Or he may very well be her ticket to freedom.

  



	10. Angel Of Darkness

Rectifying the mess the MRD had created, relocating the survivors, some of which who had ended up at the institute, took the better part of four days. In that time, Tony slowly drove Spencer nuts, between asking questions about absolutely everything to suggesting he join the Avengers. When he finally returned to the institute on the morning of the fourth day, the teenager was bone tired and just managed to kick off his boots before face planting it on his soft bed with a weary grunt. Wings splayed out either side of him, Spencer didn’t intend to move for several days. Of course one particularly irritating Cajun was not about to allow him that luxury.

“Up!” Remy boomed thundering into the room a tray balanced in one hand. “Come on, Fawkes. Y’ ain’t gonna crash out with not’in in y’r belly. Y’ can’t afford t’ loose even an ounce!”

Groaning incoherent curses into his pillow, Spencer wiggled upright and glared daggers at the grinning man hovering above him. “I hate you.”

“ _Non_ , y’ love me, y’r just cranky,” Remy chided good naturedly. Setting the tray down, he puttered about preparing a mug of coffee just how Spencer liked it, but also some fruit shake thing in a tall glass that looked awful. When he held it out first to the boy, he chuckled at his disgusted face. “It’s good f’r nutrition an’ Jean assured me it tastes a lot betta den it looks.”

Spencer doubted it, but thought it best not to argue. The sooner he ate and drank, the sooner he could kick Remy out of his room and follow through on his plan for going comatose for a few days. Taking the proffered drink, feathers twitching, Spencer gave a tentative sip and was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t as gross in taste as it was in looks. While Remy puttered about like a fussing mother hen, he finished the beverage with a few swallows before snatching up the steaming coffee. The Cajun merely chuckled and tapped the large bowl of porridge, reminding him food was also on the tray. Rather than argue, Spencer sweetened it with some fruit and honey and tucked it. It was filling and tasted wonderful.

“How many of the rescued have decided to stay?” Spencer asked conversationally while he ate his meal.

“Two,” Remy replied. “De girl, Kitsune an’ de boy Tobias. Course, I t’ink Tobias is more ‘cause he’s still healin’. Dat po’ boy is gonna be down in Hank’s infirmary f’r some time.”

“He’s lucky to be alive,” Spencer pointed out. “I doubt being confined temporarily is the worst case scenario here.”

Spencer had him there. The boy came quite close to leaving Stark’s in a wooden box and sadly would be permanently disfigured from the experience for the rest of his life. From what he could gather from the youth, though, he was still cheerful and certainly grateful for surviving the whole mess. The girl, however, was making something in him itch. Though she had given him no reason to, Remy didn’t trust her. So far he hadn’t voiced his concerns, figuring there was no point and that he was merely being overcautious.

Turning to say something to his feathered friend Remy blinked, chuckling lowly. Empty bowl perched in his lap, Spencer had fallen asleep, the last few days having clearly caught up. Without disturbing him too much, Remy took away the utensils and tucked him in, smiling when a wing moved on instinct to curl about Spencer. With a soft birdlike chirp, the teenager nuzzled beneath the warm feathers, blissfully unaware of the Cajun pulling the covers over him.

Quiet as a mouse, Remy took his leave, closing the door silently behind him.

In the kitchen he found Hank reading the morning paper, sipping on his coffee and Jean putting together some breakfast for herself and Scott. “He ate and drank,” the red head commented approvingly.

“ _Oui_ , an’ by a miracle, he put up no fight.” Remy responded cheerfully, tipping the contents of the tray into the sudsy sink water.

Scott snorted from his spot just across from Hank, “Kid clearly knows better.”

His friends laughter only made Remy smile broader. He wasn’t one to give in easy and when any of his _amis_ or the _enfants_ were sick or injured, they just let him fret rather than argue. The Cajun wouldn’t be deterred, so it was best to leave him to his mothering. When the door opened and a sleep tussled Rogue appeared, Remy beamed happily. Even if they were still a little tetchy with one another, he was trying to mend fences. “Mornin’ dere Rogue, y’ sleep well?” It irked him just a little that he honestly didn’t know the answer. Not when Rogue had unceremoniously kicked him out of their room.

“Ah slept fine, swamp rat,” Rogue bit out in response. “Ah see ya favourite feather head is back. Ya must be thrilled.”

Ignoring the barb and their gawking peanut gallery, Remy set about making her morning coffee. “Told y’ Roguie, Spencer is m’ _ami._ An’ if y’d just get t’ know him he’d be y’r _ami_ t’.”

“Ah got no interest in being pals with some scrawny brat who crawls into tha bed of anotha’s lover,” Rogue retorted angrily.

“That’s enough, Rogue,” Scott chastised coldly before Remy could form a response. “Spencer is part of our family now and you’d do well to remember that.”

Rogue gaped in shock, “Ya can’t be serious? Sniffin’ around mah lover an’ Ah’m supposed ta ignore it?”

“F’r de last time, we ain’t done a damn t’ing!” Remy finally exploded. All sense of keeping his cool gone and their lack of privacy forgotten. “Dis is ridiculous! I’m so damn tired of dis! Every _femme_ an’ _homme_ in de world could climb into m’ bed an’ I’d remain faithful! I ain’t no cheater! An’ if y’ can’t get dat into y’r head by now, den what de hell are we doin’, _cher_?!”

Rogue went rigid, face flushed with temper and limbs shaking from it. “Don’t let it worry ya, Remy. Ah ain’t ya problem anymore. Consider yourself free of mah.”

A little dumbstruck, Remy watched his on and off again lover abandon her breakfast and storm out, the door slamming with enough force to rattle the frame. Hank, Jean and Scott all moved to comfort him, but Remy held a hand up, halting them. “ _Non_ , it was a long time comin’.” And this time it didn’t hurt. As if his heart had already been there and the rest of him just had to catch up. “I’m gonna go out f’r a bit.”

Jean reached out to stop him, but Scott blocked her with a touch to the shoulder and a single thought that washed through her mind. Reluctantly she let Remy go, hating Rogue just a little bit for hurting him again.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

Logan growled curses tossing aside tools as he worked on his new bike. If he ever got his hands on the mechanic who made a mess of the engine previous to his ownership he’d honestly toss them off a bridge. Reaching for a wrench, Logan’s nose flared when a familiar scent washed over him, stilling when he caught a whiff of agitation curling through it and hearing the irritated grumbles of his friend, the feral probed in his usual gruff manner. “Something on your mind, Gumbo?”

“Rogue just broke it off with me in de middle of de damn kitchen,” Remy ground out in an angry rant, taking another stressed out puff of his cigarette. “Scott, Jeannie an’ Beast all dere t’ gawk at me an’ she dumps m’ ass like I mean not a damn t’ing t’ her. An’ why? ‘Cause of an’ insane idea dat I’m sleepin’ with Spencer!”

“And why don’t ya, Gumbo?” Logan asked casually, not remotely surprised by this development. “Certainly be a betta choice than Rogue. Least the pup won’t treat ya badly.”

“ _Merde_ , say it out straight, Wolvie, why don’t y’!” Grumbling Remy plopped down beside him, glaring in at the man. “Does everyone t’ink so little of Rogue?”

Sitting up, Logan reached for a rag and wiped the oil from his hands. “Listen, Rogue can brawl like a true warrior, would never let ya down in a fight, is good to kids and more...But whatever issues she’s got brewing, she keeps taking out on you and I guess we’re all sick of it. So, yes, we think that little of her. But it ain’t nothing the girl hasn’t created for herself.”

“In her messed up way she loves me,” Remy defended.

“I’m not arguing that, Gumbo,” Logan said calmly in reply. “I know she loves ya, but is any of it healthy? Ninety percent of the time you’re at each others throats and she tosses ya aside too often for imagined slights, then makes ya feel like it was all your fault and this time is no different. So for once, don’t try and win her back. Take the hint and go find real happiness somewhere else. Preferably that scrawny tweety bird who is one hundred percent your type by the way.”

Remy cursed colourfully, eyes bright with annoyance. “Dat’s hardly a solution. I care f’r Spencer, but...” Trailing off, Remy wasn’t sure what to say. Did he like Spencer that way or was it truly platonic? At this stage, after everything Rogue had put him through he doubted he could tell what it was to care for someone like that. Rogue had broken something in him long ago.

“Not sayin’ ya hop into bed with him or anyone else, tonight, Gumbo,” Logan said, dark azure eyes on his best friend. “But don’t pass up what ya could have eventually.”

Remy didn’t respond and Logan went back to tinker with his bike. Honestly, the feral was as touchy feely as a porcupine and probably thought romance was a type of hair shampoo. Yet, he always seemed to understand love on a different level to most. Truly, who ever landed the grumpy man would be one lucky bastard. Less disgruntled than he had been, Remy left Logan to his mechanic wars and headed inside.

Maybe an hour in the danger room would do him the world good.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

Kitsune learned within a couple of days that as far as the adults of the Xavier institute were concerned, she was a kid and was going to act accordingly. Translation? She was to go to classes with the other students and was most definitely not permitted to spend her days pampering Tobias instead. Since the fox mutant wasn’t sure if any disobedience would lead to her being kicked out, she grudgingly gave in and by the fourth day learned two things.

Teenagers her own age were a royal pain in the ass _and_ she really hated Math.

It didn’t matter how many times the white haired woman explained it, it was all squiggly lines and nonsense to Kitsune. Her schooling with Trask leant more toward weaponry and how to slip past security systems. Not for the first time she found herself daydreaming about skipping the next class, but talked herself out of it. She needed to avoid Charles Xavier as much as possible, if she didn’t want to get found out.

“Totally lost, huh?”

Jumping at the sudden whisper thick with Scotland, Kitsune twisted to look at the girl next to her. Pretty and petite, with auburn hair and vivid green eyes, Kitsune caught a whiff of wolf off the teenager that immediately had her fox backing up, but years of control kept her human logic from being overridden. “Math isn’t something I’m good at I guess.”

Chuckling, the wolf girl scooted a little closer. “I cannae figure it half the time meself, but if ye were to ask Miss Ororo, I’m sure she would help ye some. I’m Rahne, by the way. Rahne Sinclair.”

Kitsune frowned the minute she heard the name, “Are you related to Tobias?”

“The wee bairn down in the infirmary? Ah no!” Rahne laughed. Thanks to Xavier all the students knew about the injured boy. “Coincidence on the last name is all. What about yerself, ya got a name?”

“Kitsune,” the teenager introduced automatically and if Rahne thought she was hiding behind a false name the girl didn’t comment. “What if I don’t want to ask Miss Ororo for help?”

Rahne withheld her usual barking laugh. “Stubborn one are ye? Alright then, if that be the case, then I can help ye. If ye dinnae want it of course, just say so I won’t be offended.”

Much to her chagrin Kitsune found it impossible to shoo the girl away. She liked her and for the rest of class fell into an easy conversation with Rahne while the Scottish teen explained the Math in a way she could comprehend and just for a little while, Kitsune got to be a regular kid again, Spencer and Trask’s bullshit happily pushed aside at least for the moment.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

Spencer woke perfectly warm. The cocoon of feathers felt blissfully cosy, that is, until he realised they weren’t his feathers. Surging upright, Spencer almost tumbled from bed and tensed when rich laughter filled his ears. Heart racing, it took him a second to take in what he was looking at and when he did, he was furious. “What the hell, Worthington?!” He hissed angrily, wings flaring out behind him.

From where he lay, sprawled out on Spencer’s bed, the older man grinned and stretched languidly dressed only in a pair of navy sweat pants. “Don’t be so grumpy, Spencer. I merely wished to get close to you and since you insist on ignoring me and my advances, I thought to try cornering you to get you to listen...”

“Yes, because that doesn’t sound like a line from a stalker manual,” Spencer snapped. “Get out, Worthington, I want to take a shower.” Nervy about turning his back on the man, Spencer kept his gaze on him as he rooted out clean clothes.

“Why do you keep rejecting me?” Warren barked getting upright, feathers ruffled. “Is it because of that Cajun mongrel?”

“Nope, it’s because I don’t like you,” Spencer responded cheerfully shutting his drawer. “Weren’t you leaving?”

Later Spencer would put it down to still being groggy. He never saw Warren move, but he did feel it when his fingers wrapped about his slender throat and the brute slammed him into the wall with enough force to rattle his bones. He couldn’t even scream! As if it mattered though. Remy had explained before the rooms were sound proofed for privacy. No one would hear him anyway.

Warren’s brown eyes blazed with a dangerous fury and when something cold snapped about his wrist Spencer felt it the moment he was cut off from his powers, the inhibitor the mutant had been hiding immediately slamming up a wall around that part of himself.

Only then did he realise just how much trouble he was in.

“Alright, Spencer,” Warren purred pressing against him, “time to play.”


	11. Repurcussions

Spencer had remembered only once before being this utterly terrified and had promised himself never _EVER_ again. But promises couldn’t always be kept it seemed. Warren shepherd him toward the bed, shoving him onto it with a primal grunt and before Spencer could move, his pants and boxers were torn away, leaving him in just his long sleeved tee, the fabric just barely to mid thigh. When he scrambled back, Warren immediately followed, nestling his large body between the younger boy’s legs, a warm hand grabbing his creamy thighs with such a possessive grip, Spencer feared he would vomit.

A curious look filled the brown of Warren’s eyes when he noted something through the dark cloth. Almost teasingly he moved the tee upward, fingers ghosting over the flesh he had coveted for days now, brushing against four thick scars on Spencer’s right thigh. It was as if he had been mauled by a tiger! He looked at the boy in question, clearly confused. Shouldn’t his regenerative powers have prevented scarring?

“You wouldn’t be the first to trap me with an inhibitor and...and rape me,” Spencer spat reading the question on his face, eyes blazing even as his body trembled. “And blocked from my powers I’ll heal and scar, just like everyone else.”

A person had clawed him  like this ? No  wait ... not a person... _A mutant_ . “Sabretooth.” Warren voiced  softly , knowing the man’s tastes  veered toward taking his partners as opposed to seducing them. 

Spencer flinched, “Yes and don’t look so damn sympathetic...There is nothing different to what you are about to do.”

“Oh, Spencer,” Warren chuckled, nuzzling his throat, “By the time I’m done with you, you will beg me to fuck you. I merely blocked your powers to put us on a slightly more even playing field.”

Spencer blinked. Was he honestly that deluded? Biologically his body may very well react, but damn it, that wasn’t consent! Feeling lips on his throat now, Spencer squirmed. Without his enhanced strength, Warren definitely had the upper hand. Moving him was like trying to shift a cabinet off his chest! The hand on his thigh slid beneath the only barrier he possessed, brushing seductive  strokes over his flesh and when he felt a thick arousal pressing against his belly, tears bloomed, misery rippling through the fury.

How could this happen to him  _again?!_

He had to make him stop! Flame coloured eyes darting about, his gaze fell on the heavy lamp by his bed. Subtly as he could, Spencer reached for it.

Warren nipped and kissed along that long column of snowy skin. He heard Spencer’s heavy breathing calm a bit and his struggles were lessening. Encouraged, he grinned. “That’s it, baby, just feel.” Lower and lower he moved, pushing up the tee and pressing a wet kiss to his stomach, distracted by more scars there he never saw Spencer move.

_THUD!_

The lamp hit him with a satisfying crunch, sending the bigger man reeling backward with a strangled yelp. Blood poured from a gash just above his eye, but shockingly the bastard was still standing. Before Warren could shake off the vicious dizziness muddling his head, Spencer tore off the bed. Since his potential rapist was blocking the door, he bolted for the balcony, ignoring the furious curse. His wings spread reluctantly. He never had full strength in them when cut off from the rest of his powers, but he hoped it would be enough now. Springing off the balcony, flapping precariously like a baby bird, Spencer didn’t get far before he dropped like a stone. Expecting to hit hard gravel, he was stunned instead when his landing was a little more...soft.

Logan hadn’t seen the kid. Too worked up over his new bike pissing him off, he decided to stalk the grounds a bit to work off his agitation. What he hadn’t expected on that walk was a half naked feathered teen to drop on him out of the sky. “FUCK!” He barked, hitting the ground with a thump. “What the hell are ya—Spencer, pup?” Realising the boy was trembling and pale as a ghost, bruises mottling his neck, Logan righted himself, dark blue eyes darting over him to search for a worse injury even as he subtly scented the boy to be sure. “Kid, what happened?”

Before Spencer could answer, a figure landed next to them. White wings open behind him, expression livid, Warren wiped the blood from his brow with a hiss. “Let him go, Logan. We’re not finished.”

Logan caught the whiff in the air, Warren’s arousal washed with his fury and Spencer’s terror. “You bastard.” The feral growled angrily putting two and two together. Shoving the boy behind him protectively, he unsheathed his claws. “Come closer feather head, I dare ya.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Wolverine!” Warren barked angrily. “This is between me and him.”

“Attempted rape has everything to do with me, Angel,” Logan snarled in reply. “Now, I suggest ya go pack your shit. It’s gonna be your last day at Xavier’s.”

Without waiting for a response, bullshit or otherwise, Logan got a grip on Spencer’s arm and after giving him his jacket to shield himself a bit better, he led him back inside. Luckily the students and their teachers were all in class and Logan’s bedroom happened to be on the ground floor just off from Ororo’s greenhouse. Spencer followed numbly, not even protesting Logan’s hold. Honestly, it was possibly the only thing keeping him upright at that moment. Logan’s room was just like the others, but possessed a set of patio doors that let in the sun that was out despite the cold. Spencer figured the feral preferred an easy access to the outside and at another time may have even given into his curiosity and asked, but right that second it really didn’t matter.

Sitting him down in the one armchair in the room, Logan crouched down in front of the boy, mindful of his closeness. “Ya ain’t healing.” He commented idly. When Spencer held out his arm to show him an inhibitor bracelet the feral had to fight back the snarl ripping up his throat. “That little shit! We keep these just in case we’ve to deal with a mutant who can’t control their powers. Not for this....I’m so sorry, pup.”

As he spoke, Logan punched in the code shutting off the inhibitor. The minute it fell away, Spencer snatched his arm back, rubbing at the limb and shuddered with relief when he immediately could access his powers. It was hard to believe the whole mess barely lasted fifteen minutes and yet it felt as if it had gone on for hours. Locked in his own mangled thoughts, Spencer jumped when a mug of sweet tea was pressed into his hands. Gruff as he may have been, Logan certainly knew how to care of people.

“What will happen to Warren?” He only asked, because if the man was permitted to stay, then he would have to leave.

“I’ve already sent word onto Chuck,” Logan told him, dropping down onto his bed with a grunt. “Telepathic communication comes in handy from time to time. Don’t worry yourself over it pup. I meant what I said. This is gonna be feather heads last day here.”

Somewhere along the walk to Logan’s room, Spencer had calmed a bit, but now it was coming back at him, rippling through his muscles and twisting up his insides. Whatever colour remained in his face drained in a flood and springing forward, mug of tea falling from his grip, Spencer just barely made it into Logan’s ensuite before his stomach rebelled and he was violently sick.

The moment the kid had turned the colour of ash and bolted Logan was up on his feet. His heart clenched in sympathy. He followed him into the bathroom and gently moved his hair out of the way. “Easy pup, don’t fight it...that’s it.”

Spencer whimpered pathetically, leaning in to the comfort the man was freely offering. The heaving subsided, but the tears had taken their cue and along with thick sobs, they had fought their way free. He couldn’t even manage the usual embarrassment he was so good at. Not even when he was gathered up against a broad chest and rocked like an overgrown child. Eventually he began to settle and with that, the meek words tumbled free. “Why me? Why do I always attract...God!” Squirming free, Spencer moved to sit on the tiles, dropping his face into his hands, his whole body shuddering with the effort of controlling his volatile emotions.

“This ain’t your fault, pup,” Logan growled. “Worthington shouldn’t have touched you. So don’t suggest ya egged him on or any shit like that. No one ever asks to be assaulted like that.”

“I never saw it coming,” Spencer cursed sagging back against the cool tile.

Logan snorted, “What, you were supposed to predict he intended to hold ya down and use ya like that? I knew ya were clever, pup, but ya never mentioned ya were psychic.”

Spencer didn’t get a chance to snark back. Not when Logan’s bedroom door was all but bounced off the wall.

“Wolvie! Y’ in here, _cher_? Roguie gone an’ booted m’ ass from m’ room an’ I need a God damn shower after tearin’ it ‘bout de Danger room. Can I—” Stopping by the bathroom door, Remy openly gawked, red eyes snapping between the two on the floor, one of which looked ill. “What de....Y’ okay, Fawkes?” The tears still damp against the boy’s cheeks and his state of near undress had worry roiling in the Cajun’s gut. “What happened?”

“Worthington,” Logan snarled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

Remy had grown up on the streets. Had seen the blackest pits of a man’s soul and knew straight away when something as disgusting as rape had occurred. “Did he...?” It was barely a croak. The Cajun desperately trying to hold onto his rage.

“No,” Spencer said, voice small and shaky. “I...I didn’t give him the chance.”

With a calm nod Remy turned on his heel and stalked out. Any shouts of his name fell on deaf ears. He had an oversized turkey to roast.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

“Look!” Tobias greeted excitedly when Kitsune entered his room, holding out a sketch pad already covered with hasty drawings and splashes of colour. “Mr McCoy gave it to me. I said how I liked to draw and...and he brought me these.”

He looked so small against the mountain of pillows. Half his face and body covered in bandages, with wires everywhere and still, Tobias was vibrant, amber eyes burning with an energy Kitsune scarcely believed. Smiling, the older teenager plopped down onto his bed and drew the art pad toward her. “Hmm...Looks good, kiddo. You drew me...a lot.”

Tobias flushed and shrugged. “You saved me. I’d be dead without you.”

“You’d be dead without the X-Men and the Avengers,” Kitsune corrected dryly. “I gave you a coat, dude. Not exactly performing major surgery or anything.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so Tobias didn’t try. Ears drooping a little in response to his mood, the fourteen year old quickly shook it off and reached for a pencil as he chose fresh paper. As he talked, he began to draw. “Mr McCoy said they can start the skin grafts soon. I heal a little bit faster than a normal human, so things are moving a little quicker. Should be out of here soon.”

“And where will you go when you’ve gained your freedom?” Kitsune asked absently, ignoring the pang in her chest. Knowing if he left she would miss him deeply.

“Oh, I’m staying, the Professor offered me a place here and since I got nowhere else...Might as well accept.” Grinning, Tobias reached out and poked her. “Besides, I think you’d secretly miss me.”

“Pfft, like a hole in the head,” Kitsune retorted.

Tobias laughed, amused by her brusque attitude. Despite the snark, he saw the pink in her cheeks and her scent gave a lot away. As big on bravado as the girl was, he knew she had grown attached to him as much as he had grown attached to her and though it left her shocked, she would no doubt realise eventually it was okay. Curious about everything, Tobias pestered with questions. Kitsune was grunty and grumpy with her responses, but always answered. It was all so mundane. A normality she hadn’t had since Micha’s powers manifested.

“ _....._ _Monster!”_

“ _.....How did he do that?!”_

“ _....Mama, no!”_

The broken echo of the past was enough to make Kitsune wince. She didn’t often dwell on it. It never helped. But there were times when she wasn’t trying to hide from it so desperately and the pain squirmed through the cracks.

Her life had ended that night and there was no going back.

“Hey, Tobias,” Kitsune interrupted the young feral with a forced smile, “I’ve assignments to start, so I gotta go. But I’ll check back in tomorrow, okay?”

“’Kay,” Tobias beamed and returned to his artwork.

Kitsune watched him a moment more before gathering up her things and leaving the infirmary. Rahne waited for her outside, the teen tossing her a wolfish grin. “I was told ye may be down here, visiting your boy.”

“You my stalker now?” Kitsune asked brusquely walking by the girl.

Chuckling, Rahne followed after her, “A cranky one, ain’t ye? Cannae say I blame ye. Considering all the madness that went down a few days ago. Listen, after we get some work done on our assignments, wanna come with me and some of the others into town? We were gonna see a movie.”

Kitsune stopped, blinking at the girl in surprise. “I...You’re inviting me?” She hated how small her voice seemed and how vulnerable she suddenly felt. In fairness it had been almost five years since Kitsune had had a normal childhood. Back then, her parents had been fascinated by her mutation...they only turned when her brother’s powers destroyed everything.

“Of course we’re inviting ye, silly,” Rahne laughed, linking her arm. “Now come on! The faster we get our work done, the faster we can go have some fun!”

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

Summoned to Xavier’s study like a dog to his master was degrading. Warren was seething! Spencer had clearly run telling tales and now here he was pleading his case, head still throbbing from it’s encounter with a brass lamp. “Charles, this is ridiculous! I didn’t think dating was forbidden amongst us.”

“Dating isn’t, Warren, but attempted rape isn’t dating,” Xavier ground out, temper just brimming below the surface. “How can you not see what you did was wrong?! You didn’t court him...or seduce him mutually!”

“It’s between me and Spencer,” Warren snapped, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I can’t explain it, I just know he’s mine.”

Sitting back, fingers steepled, Xavier studied him carefully. Warren had always been a rough type. Disdainful towards those beneath him, a bully of sorts. But a rapist wasn’t something Xavier would have called him. A curious thought crossed his mind. “Is it possible you are responding to his similar bird like mutation? Instinctual to your inner animal, you are seeking a mate and he is the only one appropriate.”

Warren scowled, “Maybe. At least you can see why, now...I need to have him.”

“No,” Xavier bit out, still furious with him, “I can see what it is that is driving you so forcefully, but we are not ruled by our abilities, Warren, or our baser instincts. What you did is unforgivable. Spencer is not yours to take as if his will means nothing. You give me no choice. You are to leave the institute.”

Warren couldn’t believe it. With a snarled curse, plumage ruffled, he turned and stalked out, but got barely a foot when a sparking pink projectile knocked him off his feet and left him sprawled on his back. Ignoring the scream in his muscles, the pounding in his head, he righted himself, brown eyes falling on his attacker.

“Hey dere, _Ange_ ,” Remy greeted calmly, red eyes lit up and another glowing card fluttering between his moving fingers. “We need t’ talk...”

  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	12. Nothing Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey my flowers!   
> Apologies!!! Been ridiculously busy! Two of my favourite authors books came out, so my attentions were robbed by the lovely Nora Roberts and J R Ward for a time and I was helping Electricoutcast with a fic--if you are a fan of the In Death series and/or Ghost in a Shell have a look!!!  
> Add in two kids, keeping house, somehow keeping my sanity and a partridge in a bloody pear tree, wellllll yeah..... X_X
> 
> Anywho, here's the next chapter! Enjoy :D

Furious didn’t come close to describing Remy’s current state of mood. Murderous certainly fit better. He had long since gotten used to Warren’s hatred of him. To the abuse and he did his best to not bother retaliating, but this was so horrific the Cajun could not just let it slide. He had accepted the man’s mistreatment long ago, he’d be damned if Spencer would do the same.

“Are you out of your mind?” Warren demanded, face pinched with anger and limbs trembling. His eyes snapped to the faces poking from rooms, curious gazes and he heard thundering steps above his head, but none of that appeared to be relaxing Remy. “Whatever Spencer told you—”

“De _homme_ told me not’in,” Remy snapped card sparking violently between his long fingers. “Only needed t’ see him t’ know. Known y’ t’ be an asshole _ange._ Known y’ t’ be cruel, but dis? An’ y’ ask Remy if he’s outta his mind?!”

“It’s not your concern,” Warren retorted angrily.

“Well, see, dat be where y’r wrong.”

Warren saw him move, but groggy he hadn’t the chance to react before the charged card struck him right in the chest and sent him sprawling. Remy ignored the shouts and marched forward already lighting up another. The bastard would be leaving looking like Swiss cheese by the time he was done. If there was one thing Remy hated above all else, it was a rapist, attempted or otherwise. Arm raised, the Cajun took aim and—

“Remy, _stop_!”

Freezing mid throw, the charge falling away with a sizzle, Remy spun. Spencer stood at the front of the gathered crowd, look pleading and a bit more put together. “Fawkes...”

“He’s not worth it, Remy,” Spencer implored. Ignoring Logan’s warning, the teenager broke away and went to Remy. “I appreciate the Knight and shining armour, but you’re sort of scaring the little ones.”

A calm to his fire, Remy looked back and could see as well as feel the frightened shock wafting from the students. Guilt twisted his insides. “ _Merde! D_ _é_ _sol_ _é_ Fawkes...I just...He got me all fired up!” Stowing away his cards, Remy gave the others a sheepish look. “ _Désolé mes amis!_ ”

“Alright, you lot seen enough, back to your studies and shit,” Logan barked in his usual manner, sending the kids scattering. “Feathers, weren’t you leaving?”

He could have argued. Wanted to rage against it, but with the rest of the X-Men gathered at Logan’s back  Warren knew better. His belongings all lay upstairs, but he figured better to leave them where they were and with a last glare the winged mutant stalked out, large oak doors closing with a slam.

“I doubt that will be the end of it,” Jean said the moment he was gone, having been caught up to speed along with the rest of team thanks to a quick mental communication from Xavier. “Are you okay, Spencer?”

N o, he was not okay, he was utterly  _mortified!_ Did the whole mansion have to know what Warren had tried to do?! Why not get out an add in the paper while they were at it?! “Fine.” He responded sharply after a moment, cheeks burning with humiliation.

“Forgive me my big mouth,” Xavier apologised gently, “But they needed to know why one of our own was ordered off the premises. You must understand, nothing like this has ever happened before and awareness is the best way to protect my students and that includes you, Spencer.”

He wasn’t trying to be ungrateful, truly he wasn’t,  but Spencer had always been taught any sign of weakness was not allowed and never  to  let anyone see you at your lowest. Already he had let himself down in front of Logan and that was enough of a blow to his ego without this.  He didn’t like the eyes on him, or the pitying scents stinging his nose. Turning away from them, Spencer darted upstairs intent on taking solace in his room away from it all.

Remy followed. He knew the boy would probably  try to  send him away, but he was the only one, besides Logan, who would ignore the demand.  Stopping outside Spencer’s door Remy hesitated mid knock.  _To hell with it_ , he thought before simply marching in unannounced. 

“What the hell, Remy?!” Spencer yelped, eyes wide. He had been in the midst of tidying up the mess made of his room. “Knocking is a thing you know!”

“Would y’ have answered had I knocked, Fawkes?” Remy asked in a dry tone. “Because I seriously doubt y’ would’ve, _mais_ , I don’t blame y’. Been a shitty day.”

Looking at the lamp in his hand, Warren’s blood dried upon the edge of it, Spencer set it carefully down. “I shouldn’t have let him get near me.”

“If dat’s y’ holdin’ y’rself responsible f’r feather head’s fuck up don’t be dat stupid,” Remy snapped. “Dat was all on him.”

“I know that! I just...I promised myself, never again.” Furious with himself, Spencer turned away from Remy, arms wrapped about his middle and wings drooped. “After the first time, I swore no other man would ever touch me against my will again.”

It wasn’t the first time Spencer had hinted at such and Remy didn’t need a name to know who the culprit was either. Gently he asked. “Who hurt y’, _cher_?”

Remy waited. Spencer didn’t speak for several minutes and then, “I was seventeen, just barely and I had been passing through a small town. I stopped for the night to rest, never noticing I had drawn some attention...the mutant named Sabretooth...He broke into the motel room I was in and I didn’t even get a chance to fight back. An inhibitor collar was slammed around my throat and for the next several weeks all I knew was pain. He left scars intentionally so I could never forget.”

“Weeks?” Remy croaked out in shock. “Ol’ toothie had y’ f’r _weeks_?!”

Spencer nodded. “He would simply keep paying for the room and used me over and over again. Then one day, I woke up and he was gone, the collar removed. It was as if he had just gotten bored and walked away. I never saw him again. I left the motel and never went back there.”

“Oh, Fawkes—”

“I don’t want your pity,” Spencer cut across him, hating the sympathy in his voice.

“Fine. Just so long as y’ understand dat den and now were not y’r fault,” Remy replied just as sharply. “De victim ain’t t’ blame f’r deir attackers lack o’ morals, _cher_. Remember dat.”

Spencer still didn’t look at him. The door shut behind him, the soft click almost deafening and in his solitude he let the tears fall.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Kitsune stuck next to Rahne, the streets busy enough for so late in the evening. The pair were accompanied by three of Rahne’s best friends. Jubilee, Amara and a rather feisty girl named Tabitha. Kitsune knew all three from the files Trask had in his possession, but most importantly, what they could do. Just as she already knew Rahne could transform into a wolf and possessed enhanced attributes, she knew Jubilee had a form of pyrotechnics that looked and sounded almost like fireworks. Amara could generate and manipulate lava, which in Kitsune’s opinion made her the most dangerous of the group and lastly Tabitha had the power to create tiny orbs of light that she could use as explosives to whatever force she desired. Toss in Kitsune’s own powers to shift into a fox and manipulate snow, well, there was a whole lot of mayhem in the making.

Yet despite all that destructive ability, shockingly, they were all out without a chaperone!

From the mansion they had walked, the four long time friends doing most of the talking. They tried including Kitsune numerous times, but the girl was more content to simply grunt replies. Being mutants, most had not come from pleasant beginnings and so her barbed attitude phased none.

“Oh, relax girl,” Tabitha laughed eventually, bounding up beside her, blonde hair swaying about her shoulders. “We ain’t exactly heading to the gallows.”

“We’re going to the movies,” Jubilee gushed, giddy as a puppy. “Gotta see some of our favourite boys on screen.”

“What movie did ye see last, Kitsune?” Rahne asked cheerfully.

Honestly, Kitsune couldn’t remember. It had been years since she had such a normal kid adventure such as a two hour long film and a bucket of popcorn almost too big for one person and smothered in an insane amount of butter. “Not sure.” She replied eventually. “Never went often.”

“Do you prefer books?” Amara asked curiously. “I tend to prefer books, but the occasional movie is fine.”

“Unless it’s based on a book, then forget it,” Jubilee groused. “Still haven’t forgiven them for _Eragon_.”

“Or _Last Song_!”

“Dude! Don’t get me started on _Twilight_!”

As a debate broke out, Kitsune listened with amusement. She remembered having similar discussions with her brother. Micha had boycotted his fair share of movie makers due to their mess ups when it came to books. But that was before Trask and the MRD. Before all her brother knew was an underground room and cold silence.

The movie theatre was much bigger than the one Kitsune had known in her small home town. With thirteen screens, a red carpeted first floor lobby and a huge staircase up to some of those screens, it was truly splendid.

“Over here, Kitsune!”

Turning at her name, Kitsune found Rahne waving at her from near a large counter. Irritated she had been caught gaping like an idiot, the teenager scowled and darted over. The others said nothing, just glad to see her loosening up, however briefly. They bought their tickets and an array of goodies to go long with it. Feeling less and less stressed by it all, Kitsune figured it wasn’t so bad getting to be a normal teenager just for a change.

Screen one was nothing short of massive. The girls found their seats and out of habit, Kitsune took the seat closest to the exit. Always primed for trouble, it was an instinctual choice. The lights went down, the movie started and she never noticed someone watching her from the shadows.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Pride had Spencer forcing himself to leave his room, that and hunger. Nothing like getting almost raped to fire up the appetite. Ignoring glances, wings shielding him, he ventured down to the kitchens and bit back the groan when he found Remy at the stove and Kurt crouched on the counter of all places. But since the pair had seen him, backing away was not an option.

“Hey dere, Fawkes!” Remy greeted cheerfully, earlier issues put aside. “Y’ hungry? Got a pot of soup on an’ Stormy made some o’ her fresh bread.”

He wanted to refuse, but such a reaction would be childish. With a small nod, Spencer made his way over to the table. The food was set down in front of him a moment later, “Thank you.”

“ _Keine Ursache_ ,” Kurt replied with a toothy smile before dropping down in the seat across from him. “So....how was Stark’s? Haven’t seen you in days and I’ve been dying to know!”

Spencer blinked. He had expected to be bombarded with questions of a different sort, but a glance from Remy told him the Cajun had put a muzzle on Kurt and hopefully everyone else. Drinking in the scent of fresh soup, Spencer carefully buttered a piece of bread. “He’s...different, that’s for sure and his intelligence is remarkable. He tried recruiting me over the days I was at the Avenger’s headquarters.”

“ _Quoi?_ ” Remy barked out, laughing with it as he joined them at the table. “Not a subtle one dat Stark _homme_. Has an eye on somet’in he goes f’r it wit’ de force of a battering ram. He want y’ as an Avenger?”

“That was asked plenty of times, but funnily, no,” Spencer flushed a little, swallowing a mouthful of bread. “He read a paper I had written while I was still in college. Apparently finding out everything about me became a hobby of his while I was there and it was my intellect that caught his attention more so.”

“What’s you working on inventions?” Kurt asked excitedly. “Like his Iron Man suit?”

“I doubt it would be anything that advanced. But I have always enjoyed finding out how things work and how they can be improved.” Shrugging a shoulder, Spencer reached for more bread. “I told him I would think about it.”

Something twisted in Remy a little at that. The thought of Spencer leaving stung a little more than the Cajun cared to admit and it frightened him somewhat. Had he come to think of Spencer as something more in the mere days they had known each other? Not one to believe in love at first sight it seemed stupid and yet, Remy couldn’t deny how his heart raced just a little bit whenever Spencer was near. How, without even trying, he made him smile.

Maybe Logan was right and maybe Spencer could very well be the thing that finally made him happy.

There was always hope.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Kitsune blamed the gallon of soda for the need to step out of the movie, but in truth, the damn thing was boring to her to tears. Some idiotic love thing that kept making the others giggle and all the while she was doing her best not to crumple in a mess of snores. She figured they wouldn’t appreciate if she did.

With every screen filled for the evening matinees, the lobby was empty, save the odd theatre staff. They were staring at her, something Kitsune tended to be used to given her odd appearance and she had half a mind to toss them a grin, showing off her slightly longer canines, but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t be fair to ruin the night out.

Even if she was close to gouging out her eyes.

The bathrooms were to the west side of the huge lobby down a secluded hall. Her boots making no sound against the plush carpet. A vague thought entered her head of how much her brother would have enjoyed a night out to the movies. He preferred books of course and hated movies based on books, but he would have loved it all the same. With her and their parents they had done it often. Before it had all went to hell.

Thinking of Micha left her aching for him. Her baby brother had been so sickly as a baby and as a child. She had spent many evenings by his side keeping him company while his frail body fought off whatever had hit him so bad this time. When her powers first manifested at the age of twelve, she told him first and he had held her hand while she told their parents. They had been wary at first and then accepted it. Kitsune would never say they were proud and certainly not once she saw their true opinion the day Micha’s powers were ripped from his tiny body in a violent whirl.

For the first time in her life her baby brother had terrified her.

Shaking away the memories, Kitsune relieved her bladder and washed her hands before stepping out right into the broad chest of the last person she wanted to see.

“Hey there, little fox.”

Kitsune’s breath left her in a burst of fright, “Axel.”

  



	13. Limitations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about delays in chapters! Baby teething like mad and he's been an antichrist for days. Which of course means mama is lucky to even pee alone! X_X   
> Anywho, enjoy  
> xxx

Playing the game had been always a favourite of Axel’s. Even as a child, he had been quite blood thirsty and so when the MRD had given him quite the opportunity at just shy of sixteen he had fallen on it with glee. It was amazing the toys they gave him to play with and the fact there was no limit or cut off to how far he could go? Even better!

Then Kitsune came along with her silver haired little brother and life became utter paradise. His dear sister didn’t know the half of their meetings. Not how Axel came to his bed most nights or what he did to the boy in the dark. Even if she had, it wouldn’t have worried him. Like a dog on a leash, she would always come to heal and her brother was the chain around her neck.

He intended to remind her of that fact.

Fiercely loyal, Axel would do anything for the MRD. So when he found Kitsune playing happy teenager with the enemy it made his blood boil. “Making friends?” He sneered dangerously, backing her up against the wall, his blue eyes bright with malicious fury.

“Of course I am!” Kitsune hissed, doing her best to remain calm, even if her knees were all but knocking together. “I can’t get near my target if I don’t play nice!”

“And where is he, Fox? Hiding in the fucking popcorn?” With a snarl Axel wrapped a hand about her pale throat and slammed her hard into the cool stone. “You have a job to do and I don’t see you doing it. Of course, I don’t trust you and I never have. Nothing would please me more than the day Trask tells me I can gut you!”

“He won’t,” Kitsune snapped back hoarsely, clawing at his hand, “I’m worth more to him alive! More than you ever will!”

Growling angrily, Axel lowered his head and said the one thing to force Kitsune to comply. “Watch it, little Fox. You screw this up and I can promise you, your brother will suffer for it.”

Every thing in her ran cold. The minute Axel made any threat towards her brother, all rage drained from her and she was viciously reminded why she was in this predicament in the first place. The moment Kitsune went limp, Axel knew he had won and with a dangerous sneer, he let her go. But not before the teenager threw out one more sharp barb.

“Remember, Axel, MRD tech can hold my brother for only so long and the minute he’s free, there is no where on this planet you can hide.”

Axel didn’t bother stopping her when she walked away, not when a tiny part of him knew she was right.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

“ _What_?!” Spencer gaped across the table at Remy, he could scarcely believe what he was hearing and his cheeks heated. “But...But surely...you must have....Did you not explain to Rogue that she’s wrong?”

Remy barked a laugh, “Didn’t make a wit of difference, Fawkes. Rogue ain’t de type t’ listen an’ she’s so caught up in her own insecurities, dat dere’s no point even tryin’ t’ get t’rough t’ her.”

“Remy, I never intended to ruin—”

“ _Non_!” Remy snapped out, sitting up straight, eyes hot. “Don’t y’ dare take de blame. Remy is entitled t’ _amis._ Only Rogue lookin’ f’r shit happenin’ dat ain’t happenin’ an’ digging herself a hole. It’s been a long time comin’, _cher_. Y’ just ended up being de latest target t’ her frustrations, because everyone else can have me in a way she can’t.”

Spencer frowned in confusion, looking between Remy and Kurt, “In what way is that?”

“Rogue’s mutation is to absorb the life force of the people she touches through skin to skin contact,” Kurt explained, “The only problem is, it doesn’t have an off switch.”

Spencer blinked, gaze snapping to Remy. “Oh...So if she and you...? Oh!”

Remy nodded, “ _Oui_. She’d kill me. We’ve tried...Just t’ see if I could hold out long enough, but it...didn’t end well.”

“Didn’t end well?” Kurt spluttered. “You were unconscious for three days!”

“It was not t’ree days!”

“It was so too three days!”

“More like two an’ a half.”

Spencer chewed the inside of his cheek listening to the back and forth between the two mutants, shoulders trembling, but it was no use. The first laugh bubbled free, followed by another and suddenly he was doubled over howling with mirth.

“Somet’in funny dere, Fawkes?” Remy asked dryly.

“It just gives a whole knew meaning to the words ‘unprotected sex’!” Spencer gasped out, before another rush of laughter rolled through him.

Kurt couldn’t help it and neither could Remy. Soon all three were laughing and it was wonderful. It was a few minutes before any of them could catch their breath and Spencer felt elated. It had been so long since he had the chance to relax with anyone and since the three were having so much fun, they moved it upstairs to Spencer’s room, a bottle of wine in tow, casually ignoring the fact Spencer was still under the drinking age.

Pouring a glass each, Remy settled himself against the bed frame asking casually, “so, Kurt, how’s de mission dese days?”

With a groan, Kurt flopped back on the bed, tossing his arm over his yellow eyes. “Oh, you just had to go there!”

“Y’ bet y’r blue butt,” Remy replied with a grin, before looking to Spencer. “By mission, I mean de continuous search f’r Mystique.”

Spencer raised a brow, “The shape shifter?”

Not in the least bit surprised Spencer had already heard of her, Remy pointed a finger, “De one an’ de same. She been causin’ some troubles an’ Kurt is de only one she’ll probably listen t’.”

“Ha!”

“Don’t be so cynical,” Remy chided, “de _femme_ is y’r mother after all.”

“Mother?! That crazy bitch is a mother?!” Spencer blurted before he could stop himself. Cheeks pinking he swiftly apologised. “Sorry, Kurt...I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did,” Kurt said with amusement, “but I can’t blame you. My mother is not the friendliest of types. Didn’t know she was my mother until well into my teens, of course and though she often tried to reach out, I rejected her. Seems cruel to use that affection against her now.”

“Y’ owe not’in t’ Mystique,” Remy pointed out firmly. “Know it’s eatin’ at y’, an’ it shouldn’t be. Dat _femme_ has had plenty of time t’ let go of hate. She just chooses not to.”

Spencer realised in that moment what Remy was doing. Getting Kurt relaxed enough to talk about it, Spencer saw all the tension bleed out of him bit by bit. This had obviously been in the works before Spencer had ever set foot in the kitchen and Remy had used his presence to his advantage. Kurt probably believed he’d never broach the subject with Spencer there. Too bad Remy was as stubborn as a mule. But it was clear he cared very deeply.

Watching him now, Spencer felt his heart skip, wings fluttering at his back. Remy was so animated and warm, drawing smiles the teenager forgot he was even capable of. He made him laugh, made him feel like he belonged. Hell, he made him feel! Everything slammed to a sudden halt, his brain fritzing out, because it was in that moment, Spencer realised he had feelings for Remy and only one thought came to mind.

Well... _Shit!_

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Kitsune would never admit she had fun. Nope, wasn’t going to. Start saying things like that and it lead to dangerous crap, like confessing everything to a certain bald telepath and since she wasn’t suicidal that wasn’t going to happen. Still, deep in a corner of her mind, the fox shifter would forever hold one of the best nights of her life tight—as long as she didn’t think about the Axel part of it of course.

They went for milk shakes after. It reminded her so much of the times before her life got shredded. When her friends were still her friends and her biggest worry was what to wear to the dance that week or whether or not she’d get her history assignment done in time.

“Hello! Earth to Kitsune!”

Jumping when a hand was waved in front of her face, Kitsune scowled at Jubilee. “What?”

“Been trying to get your attention,” Jubilee responded with a roll of her dark eyes. “Thinking of making this a regular weekly thing, if you’re up for it.”

Kitsune looked between the four eager faces and shrugged. “Sure, whatever.” _Maybe they could_ _even_ _include Tobias_. A pang rang through her at the simply mundane thought. If only her life was that easy.

Back at the mansion there was chatter about a sleep over, but Kitsune declined. She honestly couldn’t muster up the boundless energy for it. The energy they all seem to have in spades. Rahne tried to talk her into it, but it was pointless. She tossed out a grunt of goodnight and headed to her room for another night of no sleep and the shadows that liked to haunt her.

* * *

 

*-*-*-*

* * *

 

Spencer rubbed grit out of his eyes and glared grumpily at Remy. It was six am and the Cajun brat was grinning like a cheery loon. “It should be a crime to be this happy, this early!”

“Oh cheer up, Fawkes. Gonna have some fun.”

Fun apparently was being pulled from his warm cosy bed, stuffed in his gear and dragged below the mansion, into a huge room that Remy called the Danger Room at what could only be considered a rather ungodly hour. Training was mentioned, but honestly, Spencer had no idea what his friend was up to. If they were training, why was it just them? Didn’t they usually train in groups?

“What’s this all about?” He asked eventually, wings shifting at his back from wary agitation.

“Don’t look so worried dere, _cher_ ,” Remy chided. “Y’ said before y’ sometimes loose control o’ y’r powers an’ den out dere wit’ de mess de MRD caused, y’ burnt y’rself out. Wit’ training we can know y’r limits an’ understand betta how t’ keep y’r powers in check an’ just how far y’ can be pushed before y’ do somet’in stupid, like nearly kill y’rself. De Professor told me t’ test y’ out dis mornin’ before de regular training sessions start.”

Ah. That actually made sense. With all the madness concerning the MRD, Spencer had almost forgotten one of the reasons he had even accepted Remy’s offer to come to Xavier’s in the first place. He needed to get a better handle on his mutation. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, first t’ing, need t’ know exactly what y’ can do an’ what y’r limits are.” Remy punched a code into a wrist unit and grinned at Spencer’s awed expression. The floor opened up in several spots and from them came high tech androids, all equipped to fight. “When I give de order, dey are gonna attack. Y’ just need t’ defend y’rself. In dis room, y’r powers are completely contained, so no holdin’ back.”

Well, this was a first. Honestly, Spencer wasn’t even sure what his reach was, he had never attempted it. For safety, Remy went up to the control room overlooking the activities. It made Spencer more relaxed to know he wasn’t about to burn him to a crisp by accident.

Shaking off the tension, flame eyes settling on his steel opponents, Spencer new the moment they came online by the shift in the air and the androids wasted no type in going straight for him.

With a beat of his wings he dodged the first assault. Faster, he was most definitely faster, but there was six of them and they were all going after him from different points of attack. The androids were cleverly programmed, which made them unpredictable. Conjuring an orb of fire, Spencer took out the first with ease. Metal blasting apart. The next, Spencer used his enhanced strength to tear its head from its shoulders. Sparks flying from a muddle of wires, it fell with an audible thud. When the four remaining charged together, Spencer sucked in a great breath and in a burst let out a deafening screech. The sound reverberated throughout the room, leaving cracks and dismantled the last four androids.

From up above, Remy gaped. He had seen a power like it others, but wasn’t expecting it in Spencer. He had taken them all out in under ten minutes! And still, there was no way they had seen the full extent of what he could do. Keying in something, he set it to phase two.

Spencer jumped when the floor opened around him. Eyes snapping about he inwardly cursed Remy when much larger androids emerged and they were on a whole other level than the tin cans before them. Again and again he took them down, until finally fed up, Spencer reached deep into himself and to the core of his fire. With a shout, he let it erupt from him in an explosion strong enough to shake the Danger Room and the institutes foundation.

Knocked on his ass, Remy nearly blinded by the flame, the Cajun watched the system go nuts as it took in how hot, how much and everything in between. If the tech didn’t fry he would honestly be amazed. Spencer’s vitals were also being monitored and when he saw a sudden drop in his heart rate, Remy cursed, springing toward the door.

As the fire raged, Spencer stood at its centre. He tried pulling back, but it wasn’t responding, fighting against him and feeding on his twisted emotions. Beneath him the ground bubbled and melted, the walls protested and he felt his strength waning. In response, the fire finally backed off and the last thing Spencer saw before darkness was Remy running toward him, eyes lit with worry.

  


  



	14. Ripples On The Water

Spencer woke to a comfortable bed, a pounding head and familiar French curses. Stiffly, he turned, frowning when he found Hank treating Remy for burns all up and down his right arm. Why would he—Just like that, it all came back in a flood of muddled thoughts. With a gasp, he lurched upright and immediately regretted the action. Aches screamed in protest, head splitting to the point Spencer was sure he would pass out and when his stomach roiled violently, he closed his eyes and prayed for it to stop.

“Hold on a minute!” Hank snapped out, his hands pressing against Spencer’s shoulders to lay him back down. “You’ve been through a serious ordeal and need to take it easy!”

“I hurt him! I hurt Remy! I didn’t mean to!”

“Easy, Fawkes,” Remy called out, voice a little strained, “Not’in Hank can’t fix. I’m fine.”

Swallowing the lump in his, Spencer took deep breaths and tried to get his racing emotions under control. “I’m so sorry, Remy! I couldn’t stop it!”

“Easy, _cher_ ,” Remy soothed again, “I know dat. Y’ won’t be de first mutant t’ do it. It’s a risk when it comes t’ dangerous powers like ours.”

Dragging a hand through his curls, Spencer closed his eyes and tried to centre himself. His powers had always fed off his emotions and he had always been a highly emotional person. Feeling things stronger, no matter how much he tried to push them down. He often wondered if his mutation was to blame, or maybe the autism several specialists had stated he had. It didn’t really matter either way. He just needed to know how to keep it in check. Calmer now, Spencer looked at Remy.

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

Remy smiled gently, “ _Non_ , Fawkes. Hank gave me somet’in t’ numb de worse of it an’ wit’ my body a constant energy source, I’ll heal fast enough. It was an accident, _cher_. Don’t beat y’rself up over it. Won’t help anyone if y’ do.”

“Was I out long?” Spencer asked, booting aside his guilt trip for the moment.

“A few hours, _petit_.” Remy replied. “Y’ gave us a hell of a scare. Y’ had totally wiped y’rself out. Worse den when y’ fought de fire.”

Spencer winced. “No wonder I feel awful.”

“Indeed,” Hank interjected, yellow eyes stern. “You will be resting here until I say otherwise, young man and no more foolishness like that, if you can bloody well help it.”

“I won’t, Hank,” Spencer smiled tiredly. “I promise.”

Hank doubted that. He had a feeling Spencer would be as bad as Remy for ending up in the infirmary. For the moment he wouldn’t bother with the lectures. Better to make preparations for when stubbornness led to idiocy instead.

Once his burns were treated, Remy took up residence at the end of Spencer’s bed. Rooting out a deck of cards he grinned cockily. “Wanna play poker? Gotta pass de time somehow.”

Spencer blinked, a slow smile building. “Sure.”

With a whoop, Remy dealt the cards.

They played eight games.

...Spencer beat him every time.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

The next few days passed by quickly. Then the days became weeks and suddenly it had been six months since Spencer had first come to the institute. Over time, the teenager had gained some much needed weight, filling out his face and making him look healthier. He took to doing one on one classes with Hank and loved every minute of it and even began teaching Math to the younger students part-time. His powers took a while, but Spencer gradually gained full control and a better understanding of them. It had only taken two months before he could join in on group training sessions and he never repeated the burn incident a second time. After all, Remy would have a livid looking scar on his arm for the rest of his life, as a permanent reminder to Spencer. It was enough to keep his powers on a tighter leash.

He enjoyed helping Logan and Scott in the garage. Spent time with Ororo in her greenhouse and loved getting into debates about literature with Jean. The occasional prank on Remy as he teamed up with Kurt also brought it’s own enjoyment and though he couldn’t stand it, he spent nearly every morning sparring with the bull headed Cajun. Sure he was becoming a pretty decent fighter, but his warring heart was becoming a problem and any close proximity to Remy was swift becoming torture. Which was not helped when Rogue still looked at him as if she was planning his funeral.

But it didn’t matter. Not really. Not even her bad attitude could ruin it for him.

He was finally home.

“Yo! Fawkes!”

Rolling his eyes at the nickname and cursing Remy for ever starting it, Spencer looked up from his book to see Kurt sprinting toward him. “Yes, Kurt...Any particular reason you’re hollering across the grounds for me?” He asked dryly.

Plopping down next to the younger mutant, Kurt gave him a wide toothy grin, “Guess who’s here looking for you!”

Spencer frowned, “Who?”

“Wouldn’t even take a guess, kid?”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Spencer’s gaze snapped behind Kurt and his face lit up in delight. “Agent Morgan!” Springing to his feet, he darted toward the man and hugged him fiercely.

Derek laughed in a jovial burst, getting a face full of warm feathers and moved Spencer back a bit just to get a good look at him. The teenager looked great! His hair no longer hung limp, his flame eyes bursting with warmth and flare and Derek was so glad to see his wings out, the boy no longer hiding away. “Wow! You look great, pretty boy! This place is so good for you.”

“Thanks,” Spencer beamed. Copping Kurt out of the corner of his eye, the feathered mutant flushed a little. “Oh! Kurt, this is Agent Derek Morgan...Agent Morgan, this is Kurt Wagner.”

“ _Hallo_!” Kurt greeted cheerfully, holding out a three fingered hand. Only a slight tremor gave away his nerves.

With no hesitation, Derek took it and gave it a friendly shake, “A pleasure, Kurt. You taking care of this trouble maker here?”

“Hey!”

Laughing, Kurt instantly liked the Agent. “Trying to. Spencer doesn’t always make it easy.”

“I’m right here!” Spencer spluttered indignantly. “Are you two done making fun of me?”

“For now.” Kurt chuckled, “Anyway...I gotta go. Seeya later, Fawkes.”

When the blue skinned mutant dissipated in a flurry of blue black smoke and a loud crack, Derek only jumped a little. Laughing just a bit at his expression, Spencer tucked his book under his arm and started back toward the mansion.

“What brings you out here?” He asked.

“A case cropped up nearby,” Derek explained. “It didn’t take long to nail the creep and we’re not heading back till the morning, so I thought I’d pay a visit.”

At a sudden squeal, Spencer leaped and spun, just in time to see a colourful blonde bouncing toward him. His wings snapped wide in defence and he backed away with a low growl. The woman slid to an abrupt stop, dark blue eyes wide.

“Baby girl,” Derek chided with an exasperated groan, “We talked about this. I told you not to jump him. Sorry, Spencer...This is my co-worker, Penelope Garcia.”

The name had him instantly relaxing. Over the weeks of chatting, she had been mentioned and wings tucking in, Spencer flushed sheepishly. “Apologies Miss Garcia. I’m jumpy with strangers.”

“Oh no, my fault entirely,” Penelope gushed. “Derek here did tell me. But you’re just too adorable, I couldn’t help it! Your wings are gorgeous! Can I?”

Watching her carefully, Spencer realised she was reaching toward a wing. With a soft expression, he spread the right one toward her and his smile widened at her enthralled gasp. Her fingers slid carefully through his feathers, feeling silken flesh beneath and the warmth was wonderful. It was almost like being bathed in sunlight.

“Oh, firefly, aren’t you beautiful!” Stepping back, Penelope rooted through her large bag and pulled out a huge floral decorated tin, which she thrust toward him, beaming. “Here Vanilla Bunny!”

Blinking, Spencer accepted what she was offering and was happily surprised to find it filled to the brim with freshly baked cookies. “Oh! Thank you, Miss Garcia.”

“You are very welcome,” Penelope cooed, positively brimming with joy.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Hearing the familiar Cajun accent, Penelope squealed and whirled around. Her eyes lit up and she pranced toward the gorgeous specimen she had yet to meet. “Oh my _God_! You look as yummy as you sound!”

Laughter rich, Remy bent and swept Penelope up into a tight hug, as if he had known her for years. “Good t’ finally meet y’ in person, Pen!”

“Absolutely. Honestly the phone doesn’t do you justice.” With a flirtatious wink, Penelope kissed him solidly on the mouth before sashaying her way back to Derek.

Though he could see she was only playing, Spencer couldn’t help the small twinge of jealousy that filled him. Shoving it down, he ignored it, intent on enjoying his visitors for as long as he had them.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

Pants filled Kitsune’s room, mingling with hungry moans. The white hair teen lay sprawled on the bed, sweaty and writhing as Rahne lapped at her drenched sex for what felt like the millionth time that day. God knows how it happened. She had never intended for it and yet here they were after weeks of fucking like rabbits, still famished for each other. Kitsune intended over and over not to repeat the act, but the minute Rahne touched her, that thought usually went right out the window.

“Fuck!” Kitsune barked when Rahne suddenly stopped. “No, _no!_ I was almost there!”

Giggling, green eyes bright, Rahne slid up her body, pressing their sexes together firmly. “Not without me, ye ain’t.”

“Bitch!”

“Ye love it!”

Taking Kitsune’s mouth in a fiercely savage kiss, Rahne rutted against her, swallowing the girl’s pleasured sounds. Both were riled to hell and back, heated up and desperate for another drop over that glorious edge. Hands moving, Kitsune gripped Rahne’s plump ass, arching when it just increased the searing pleasure.

“More! Oh God!”

Laughing, Rahne nipped at her neck and rolled her hips harder, faster. She always loved moments like this, watching Kitsune come undone. Becoming lost to her emotions and for once looking so free.

“Cum for me,” Rahne panted against her lips.

Kitsune growled a curse, those last words tipping her over and she came so hard she was sure she’d pass out. Rahne cried out, a moment later, in a mix of English and Scottish before collapsing on top of her snowy haired lover, nuzzling in with a blissful sigh.

But as always, the romance ended just as swiftly as it began. Kitsune shoved Rahne away and got up, stretching her long limbs with a satisfied grunt.

From the bed, Rahne studied her, hurt twisting her up like it always did after their sweaty little romps and for once, as she watched Kitsune dress, she couldn’t remain silent, “Running off again?”

Reaching for her bra, Kitsune stiffened. Back to the girl, she said, “You’ve never complained before.”

“What exactly is this, Kitsune?” Rahne spat, temper warring with her common sense and winning. “What are we to each other?”

“You want labels?” Kitsune laughed, spinning to snatch up her hair tie. “We fuck, Rahne, nothing else. We’re not girlfriends, or any sappy shit like that. Hell, we’re barely friends!”

“And why not?!” Rahne snapped, scrambling up and grabbing her own clothing. “Ye been hanging out with me and mine for weeks and clearly enjoying it and the sex...Ye started that! Ye came onto me!”

“I didn’t see you putting up a fight!”

“Of course not!” Rahne shouted. “I love ye, ye idiot!”

Silence engulfed the room so fast it was almost painful. The colour fled from Rahne’s face and she shook. The teenager had never meant to admit that! It was a secret she had been guarding close to her and yet now, here it was, gone into the world and she could never take it back.

“Are you stupid?” Kitsune finally snarled, blue eyes livid. “Why? Why would you love me? _Me?!_ ”

“Are ye seriously that daft, Kitsune?” Rahne croaked. “Do ye hate yerself that much ye can’t see how anyone could love ye? Yer brave and beautiful and funny and I...I just wanna be with ye.”

“I’m poison,” Kitsune spat, “A disease that...that just destroys everything! You shouldn’t love me! I couldn’t...” Falling silent, the fox mutant yanked on her boots. She needed to get out. To run far away and reset. To go back before everything hurt again.

“Kitsune,” Rahne pleaded, “Please...Why do ye have to fight everything? Exhaustion catches up eventually.”

“Yeah, and when it does, maybe death will be merciful and come with it.”

The door opened and shut with a dull roar. Rahne never moved, her tears a miserable patter against the oak floor.

Cursing Rahne’s antics to hell and back, Kitsune stomped through the institute, scattering students, her temper a shield about her. With one statement, Rahne had melted away all the frivolous stupidity of the last few weeks.

It was time to stop pretending

She had a job to do.

  



	15. Be Still My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It sucks...UGH! I've rewritten this loads of times, not happy with the length either...Just one of those awkward chapters....That or I'm overly critical of my own work.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy my flowers.  
> xxxx

It appeared childish no doubt, but Spencer didn’t care. Tugging Derek along, he brought him to his room across from Remy’s, happy to share his personal space with the man who had helped save his life. Over the months it had accumulated more books than Spencer had ever owned in his whole life and he had naturally lost any shelf space quite a while back, leaving organised piles about the room. Paintings and photographs littered the wall to the right and the bed looked as if it hadn’t been made in a week. Derek noted his letters sitting neatly upon the desk right beside the balcony doors and smiled at the small collection of DVD’s that he had sent the kid a few weeks ago. He had been horrified by his lack of knowledge in that area and thought it best to inject some movie culture in while he still could.

“It suits you, kid,” the Agent commented with a grin. “I see books take precedence over floor space.”

Spencer blushed and shrugged a slim shoulder. “I like to read and since I’m safe here and no longer being chased up and down the country, I have time to read as much as I like.”

“Still no sign of the MRD?” Derek queried casually.

Over the weeks of trading letters, texts, calls and emails, it had been a continuous source of topic throughout everything else the two discussed. Despite being taken off the case some time ago, Derek had delved deeper where he could in his spare time. But much to his annoyance, his efforts kept coming up empty.

“No,” Spencer sighed. “The X-Men keep the feelers out of course. But so far, there has been nothing. I’m not easily accessible any more and I’m hoping it’s enough to make them give up.”

He doubted it, of course. He had killed some of their men. Accident or not, it was enough for the cold hearted bastards to hunt him till the end of his days. Deep down, Spencer knew his little paradise wouldn’t last forever. Still, he intended to make the most of it.

It was easy to change the subject. Spencer showed him some of the projects he was working on before they headed back down to Remy and Garcia, where they had left them in the first floor living-room.

The pair stood by the unlit fireplace laughing heartily. Remy’s rich laughter was hard to miss and the Cajun tossed an easy smile at Spencer the minute he and Derek stepped into the room. “Dere y’ are, Fawkes! T’ought y’ f’rgot about us dere f’r a minute.”

“Hardly,” Spencer responded dryly. “I was just showing Agent Morgan how I’ve been getting on these last few months.”

“And seems we left him in good hands,” Derek added happily. “We’re not always so lucky when people come to us for help. So it’s a good thing when things go in our favour.”

“Understand dat, me,” Remy said with a tinge of sadness in his tone. “Y’ do y’r best an’ sometimes, folk still ain’t who dey say dey are.”

Uninterested in delving into darker topics, when they were off the clock for at least the next few hours, Garcia swiftly came between them. “Alright! Enough of that boys. We didn’t come here to depress ourselves, but to spend some time with Derek’s favourite tweety bird.”

The nickname had Spencer’s cheeks bleeding crimson and when Remy snorted a laugh, he glowered at the man. “Laugh it up... _Gumbo_.”

“Oh hardy har, _petit!_ ”

“Cute!” Garcia squeaked in delight, enjoying their antics. “Alright boys...Now onto the fun stuff...Anyone ever play a little game called ‘ _I’ve never_...’...?”

The mention of the game had a devious smile splitting across Remy’s face and Spencer had a feeling whatever it was, he’d regret agreeing to it.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

Shifting through the trees, the snow white fox made her way quickly across the grounds and toward the large facility at its centre. The guards didn’t stop her. Too used to Kitsune’s coming and goings to pay much heed. They hadn’t seen her in quite some time, but then her recent mission had required a deep undercover.

Past the guards, Kitsune shifted her form and barely spared the men a glance. She headed inside, her combat boots a thunderous strike against the cold linoleum floors. Usually, the teenager would go to her brother first, but her temper and dark depression had her heading straight for Trask. Better to get this nightmare over with while she could and move onto the next load of bullshit he would throw her way.

She found him in his office on the third floor.

Like he often did, Trask paid no attention to her, eyes on his work. He had more than once left her standing for hours until he deemed fit to address her. Too bad Kitsune wasn’t in the mood to play the political game. Stomping toward his desk, the teenager reached out and yanked away the file Trask was so immersed in. It swiftly got his attention.

“Hey!” He shouted, gaze livid.

“Oh good,” Kitsune responded dryly, tossing the file aside, “you’re ready to talk.”

“Insolent girl,” Trask hissed out. “You better have a perfect excuse for your behaviour, or I may just pay a visit to your brother, myself!”

Rooting out a flash drive, ignoring the threat, Kitsune tossed it down in front of him. Frowning, Trask lifted it, brow raised. Rolling her eyes, she quickly explained. “It’s everything and anything you could possibly know about the Xavier institute and your feathered target, from their defences...to what bird boy eats for breakfast. But there’s just one problem...I can’t bypass their security.”

Snarling a profanity, Trask lurched away from the desk and tossed away the flash drive in temper. “So what use is any of this to me, you idiot?!”

“I would think that was obvious.” Kitsune snarked back. “We simply have to get him away from the school. Considering how trusting he is of me now, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll just lead him astray and you come pick him up.”

It all sounded so easy and if Kitsune’s heart twisted a little with guilt, she simply ignored it.

* * *

 

*_*_*_*

* * *

 

Spencer plopped into bed with a loud moan. Derek and Garcia had stayed a lot longer than he had anticipated, especially after the latter instigated that embarrassing game and it had taken a bit to drag his weary butt up to bed, especially after Remy had started making cocktails, but it had been worth it and his mutation was already burning away the alcohol.

He found once he had gotten to talking to the vibrant blonde, Penelope Garcia, he liked her a lot and he really loved Derek’s company. Bit by bit they were all falling into place, all the different pieces of his muddled family and it warmed Spencer in ways he hadn’t been in a long time.

Hearing a knock on his door, the youth groaned. He already suspected who it was and called out irritably. “Go away Remy! It’s time to sleep!”

The door opened regardless and Remy strode into the room with a snort. “It’s barely one am, Fawkes...De night is still young as dey say.”

Groaning louder, Spencer yanked his pillow over his head. “Go to sleep, Remy!” He figured if he ignored him long enough, Remy would give up and go away.

Too bad the Cajun was a tenacious bastard and had no intentions of giving in.

Plopping down on top of Spencer, Remy sighed dramatically. “I just can’t. De sky’s awake, so I’m awake, so we have t’ _play_!”

Grunting, Spencer wiggled from beneath him. “You are seriously not quoting _Frozen_ , are you?” With one good shove of his foot, he sent the Cajun tumbling off the bed.

Remy landed in a heap, laughing loudly. “Y’ actually know dat movie?”

“Jubilee and Tobias decided to educate me on all things Disney last week.” Sitting up, Spencer looked down at his friend. “Any particular reason you can’t harass someone else?”

“Not in de slightest, _cher_ ,” Remy replied cheerfully.

Spencer had barely any warning before Remy leaped to his feet and lunged. In a mess of tangled limbs, blankets and feathers they hit the ground and Spencer’s peals of laughter filled the room. In an effort to fight him off, Spencer shoved against his body. With his enhanced strength, it was easy enough to get the upper hand and rolling them both he straddled the Cajun, grinning in triumph.

“Got you!”

Remy stared up at the younger mutant completely breathless and something in him stilled. Hands on his thighs and his heart pounding, he swallowed heavily. Spencer’s cheeks were flushed prettily, his bronze hair falling about his face in thick coils. He was beautiful and after weeks of minding his manners, Remy couldn’t take it any more.

Spencer gasped in surprise the minute his friend moved. The kiss came out of nowhere, melting him and heating his blood to boiling. Remy’s hands fisted in his hair and when he shifted his hips, Spencer arched with a strangled mewl, feeling the press of his hard sex against his own, drawing forth his own desperate need.

He had honestly never been so aroused in all his life!

Remy flipped them, pressing down on Spencer’s body and delighted in the answering moan. Possessed by his own desires, he kept up the fiery kisses and loved how the boy beneath him responded in kind. Hands fumbling, they freed each other from the confines of their clothing. Spencer coiled his long legs about Remy’s waist, as the lithe Cajun rutted frantically against him. Faster, harder, it built up, until they swallowed each others cries, reaching their burning crescendo together.

Remy rolled off Spencer a moment later, dropping beside him in a heap. “ _Mon Dieu_! Where did dat come from?!”

“I have no idea!” Spencer panted in response. Shyly, he moved onto his side, studying Remy’s face. The aftermath brought it’s doubts and the feathered mutant couldn’t help but ask. “Do you regret it?”

“ _Quoi?!_ ” Head snapping around to face him, Remy gaped. “ _Non_! O’ course not! Remy been dyin’ t’ touch y’ f’r weeks! Sure, I regret de timing an’ de lack of romance wasn’t intended...Prolly jumped a few steps in de whole wooing y’ bit...but sometimes t’ings just happen de way dey’re suppose t’.”

Laughing a little, Spencer moved and cuddled into him. “God! I’ve been trying so hard not to give into my feelings...I had no idea you felt the same way! And I...Well, after you’re trouble with Rogue, I didn’t want to do anything in case you...rejected me.”

Remy knew all Spencer had been through. Knew the signs of abuse when he saw it and wasn’t surprised that he saw so little worth in himself, even if it did break his heart a little. “Spencer,” he started, gathering him up and nuzzling his throat. “Y’r beautiful, smart, funny an’ de kindest _homme_ I’ve ever met. Now dat I got y’, I’ve no intention of ever letting y’ go.”

Flushing with happiness, Spencer settled down in his lap, wings lazily wrapped about them both and a soft smile on his face. They may have started this relationship off a little backwards, but he was alright with that.

Now that he had caught his Prince, Spencer had no intention of letting him go.


End file.
